What are your childhood memories of your grandparents' house?

Never knew my granddads, both had died while my parents were young (dad's dad died in the trenches in WWI, and mum's dad died when she was 11). Dad's mum lived in a large flat I can barely remember, overlooking the beach at St Ives. My brothers went to stay there several times, but I couldn't - she didn't like females!

Mum's mum was a rather grand old lady who lived with us, so her house was our house.

Am now feeling very sad that my DD will never know her grandads - my dad died 8 years ago & my FIL died 7 months before she was born .

'Chillo' home made iced cream
smoking coals before the fire properly lit
sitting on storage heaters drinking hot vimto
duck in a bath in the greenhouse
sunny sunny days and cosy nights

neverever my MIL does that! What is it for? In 16 years I've never had the courage to ask .

I agree, this is a loveliest thread.
Reading everyones memories and re-reading my own, I'm in tears

I'm so grateful my dd has a wonderful, close relationship with her grandparents (my parents) especially with my dad (her Grandpa) as I never got to know either of mine

Grandma turning the gas on, lighting a spill (I think she called them - long wooden multi coloured sticks) and throwing it in the general direction of the fire.

Candlewick bedspreads -yellow in one room, pink in the other.

Cotton sheets in the summer & flannelette in the winter - and no duvets, just hundreds of sheets & blankets.

Watching snooker on a black & white telly .

The old fashioned "stereogram" which we were not allowed to touch. "It's not a toy!"

Hanging knickers underneath a towel or tea-towel on the washing line to preserve modesty.

Grandpa's amazing rose beds - and making rose petal perfume from them .

This is the loveliest thread I have read

Juggling you have made me weep again. You are so right to say that we can catch up through our DCs. You have made me very determined to ensure my children stay close to their grandparents.

(Now, cousins - I have loads, some of whom are dear friends, and they remember my GPs... Maybe I should talk to them about it)

Thank you all again for this wonderful thread. Mumsnet is amazing.

Full on crying. My Grandparents were my parents - Dad died before I was born and Mum had to work all the hours God sent to bring up 3 children on her own. Spent every holiday with my Nan and Grandad and loved every second. I still smell my Grandad (garlic tablets) and hear his laugh (Sid James)and miss them both with all my heart every day.

And more...
sausage casserole with sauteed potatoes
going to pick blackberries for blackberry and apple crumble
licking the spoon after making said crumble
the wallpaper in their bathroom that I picked for my bedroom when it was re-decorated when I was 8
watching cartoons with Grandad
white crusty rolls with butter on a Saturday night when Nan babysat
Nan sitting at the top of the stairs while I went to the toilet (I was scared to go upstairs by myself)

Good thread!

My gran kept a glass of water in the microwave :)

The glass of water my Grandad would always keep in the microwave in case someone turned it on accidentally.

The way the sofa cushions would slide off when we lolled about.

The sound of my Grandad's electric razor at the crack of dawn before he went to work.

The cupboard where Gran kept all the old photo albums which always seemed like a treasure trove.

The blue glass miniature horses that my Gran had - we used to pretend they were moving around.

Wow, great thread.

Thanks gold and myrrh- maybe it's a human coping mechanism to gradually erase or minimise the bad memories. In grandparents' case, as they are generally so beneficent towards their grandchildren, it's only fitting we do that.

Grandad:
Mum, Dad and us 6 children lived in our Grandads house.

Sitting around the table and hearing stories of when he walked to school in deep snow!

His three piece suit and satin waistcoat!

Cutting my face when trying to copy him shaving with an open razor
My poor DM was traumatised for years after by the sight of my face covered in blood as I ran into the kitchen.

The smell of his pipe tobacco!

Eating late dinner when he came home from work.

Playing cards and crib on cold winters nights in front of the coal fire!

Reading encyclopaedias smelling of mothballs about the 7 Wonders of the World.

Despite having only one child(my dad) he was a wonderful grandad to his 4 granddaughters .

Saturday pocket money spent at Woolworths!

He has been gone for many years but will always be loved and remembered by me

Candy-striped sheets (in summer fresh cotton stripes... in winter, flannelette)

The Andrew Sisters

Strawberry picking

Watching old black & white movie matinees on television

Saturday morning visits to the village haberdashery (sadly not too many of them around any more )

A very tall, old christmas tree and vintage tree decorations

Poached egg breakfasts and fish & chip suppers

Sunday afternoon tea of sandwiches, cakes, and trifle

Baskets of knitting at the side of the sofas

Finding the stash of chocolate limes

Lingering scents of Este Lauder Yew Dew on my clothes after I went home

The feeling of being so unconditionally loved

• Happy times

Thanks for your post Emmalina
It's wonderful that your DD's can know and love all their grandparents.
Sometimes we can catch up on things a bit through them.
Like my DC's have lots of cousins which is something I didn't really experience in my childhood

Remember the good things whatabout - they're what count ?

Oh what a beautiful thread! Such beautiful evocative memories.

All my GPs died before I was born. All my life I have believed that you can't miss what you've never had but your posts have changed my mind.

Today I have missed them all. And I have cried my eyes out

I am so, so, so grateful that my DDs know all their grandparents and have amazing relationships with them.

You are all very lucky.

The smell of White bread
The taste of thick White bread and butter
Tea and toast for supper(before bedtime)
Scouse-the Liverpool stew

Jelly
Helping in the kitchen, taking peas out of the pod
Making jam tarts
Waiting for grandad to get off the bus and walk up the path
Buses
Smoking in the kitchen(not me)
Lots of blankets on the bed
Staying up to watch pot black with grandad
Watching any sport on sat afternoon with grandad
Playing with the ornaments
Growing onions, strawberries in their garden
Sunbathing in their garden
Going to newsagents on sat afternoon to choose a comic
Bags of broken biscuits
50p's in the leccy meter

One potato, 2 potato game with grandad

All good

My maternal grandparents- the only ones who mattered
Good things- their country house, spending all summer with them and gran's roast pork which marked the beginning of the holidays (we grew up in a muslim country). Gran's unconditional love and support- I could have murdered someone, she would have pleaded in my favour. Her sense of humour (filthy). Her smell (unique, of her and her rosewater she'd apply every evening). She aged and I never noticed her wrinkles, she was just her and that was enough. My grandfather's calmness to balance out my Dad's emotional and aggressive outbursts. Their love of books, their Frenchness which opened up a whole culture to me and which I'll always carry with me wherever I am.
Bad things- Gran dying suddenly and grandfather's immediate decline thereafter. Grandad not being able to stay in his home. Me having to empty their home after they'd both gone, dismantling their lives item by item I thought it would never end (my mother died before they did so it all fell to me). Only slightly redeemed by selling it to Gran's nephew. Hideous French bureaucracy, I could go on. As the years pass the badness receeds and I remember the good things more and more.

I almost cried ! I remember the pot of milk bottle tops !
The beige patterned carpet.
Polly the cat , named after the Apollo space craft .
Grandma C made this incredible salad thing with sliced beetroot and raspberry (?) jelly .
Grandad C could stand on his head .
And he had a photo of himself when he was a little girl ( in a smock with lovely long curls )
An enormous Christmas cactus which was the size of the hall table .
Grandma W having a lie down so she could rest evey afternoon.
Both Grandads have been gone for a long time , and lost both Grandmas ( and Mum and MIL in 2001 )

A carpet with absolutely no pile.
Making wooly pompoms on a Saturday night in front of the fire.
Apples picked from the tree wrapped in newspaper and kept in the drawer all winter.
Having to go outside to go to the toilet.
My gran's warm fruit cake with really strong orange squash eaten in the garden whilst sitting on the swing.
Having to sleep top to tail with my brother in a single bed.

I miss my Nan.

My gran used to massage my forehead with my head in her lap when I had a headache and warm a cloth and put it over my hurty eyes till I was better.

They lived in a rambly old house built round a courtyard with a waterpump so you had to pump to get water every time it was needed. And an outhouse with a cow and calf, fed with fresh hay and sugarcane, which my grandad would shred in the morning, so the smell was always in the air. My granny would churn the buttermilk and let me have a go. There were the sounds of the visiting sellers of fruit, such as guavas, who would call in the street and then come in with their fresh picked baskets full, and my granny would be very strict and only pick out the ripe ones and made sure they were weighed properly. Then she would cut them and add salt and pepper and it would taste tangy and fresh and sweet all at the same time. My grandad was very tall and straight because he had been in the army and they were both the nicest kindest most loving people in the world apart from my own mum and dad.

Ahh Magneto, that's lovely and not too long at all. I enjoyed reading it x

I remember my grans big cupboard in the kitchen, and the pulley for her bloomers to dry. Her yellow and brown crocheted toilet roll lady!

I remember my grandpa's pipe, and the chair he sat in. I remember knocking over a glass of red cola from their round three legged plastic table and him looking at me and saying to my mum to leave me be.

I was shocked when I went to their grave recently to realise I had been just turned 2 when he died. I had thought I must have been 3 or 4. I remember going to visit him in hospital too when he was really ill.

And lots of good memories of visiting my wee granny after that, who died 2 days before DD1 was born, on Christmas day.