In My Grandmother's House.

[LastGoldenDaysOfSummer]

My Welsh grandparents lived in a large terraced house on a steep hill. The houses were built around the turn of the century. There was a front parlour, a sitting room, a kitchen and a scullery downstairs and an outside toilet. Two huge bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs.

I was describing it to OH and a memory suddenly came back. There was a power cut over the Christmas period when I was very small and my grandfather lit the gas mantles that I hadn't know existed until then. I hadn't realised that houses were lit by gas until electricity became widely available.

They gave off a lovely glow and, at my request, we used them often, even after the power was restored.

My grandfather was the organist at the church and there was a baby grand piano that nearly filled the parlour. All his children learned to play the piano on that. And we used to sing carols around it at Christmas time.

When my grandfather retired he had the house rewired and the gas mantles taken away.

Any other memories of grandparents' homes.

My grandmother's house was an Edwardian semi with 2 apple trees, a damson tree and a plum tree, a gooseberry bush and a blackcurrant bush in the garden. There were 2 rambling roses along the side of it, which had amazing scents. There was an outside loo with izal toilet paper, which was freezing in the winter.

No fridge, just a meat safe in the pantry and milk went into a bucket of water outside. In the kitchen was a copper for laundry, and a mangle. No heating apart from a coal fire in the living room which she would heat the iron on and toast bread and crumpets. We had stone hot water bottles to go to bed with.

She made lovely jam [often blackberry and apple] and flapjacks. I grew up in that house, it was my home and she like my mother. We were very close and she taught me so much. An amazing woman I miss her every day. I loved her very much. She died when I was 35 so I lucky to know her for so long.

I will never forget that house and how happy and safe I was there. So many memories.

Whenever I feel a bit low, I always think back to my grand house, and our "secret"
She had lots of tins in the kitchen and would tell the adults it was sewing stuff and receipts. In fact, they was full of home made cake. And apparently, only I could know that so it was my and nanny's secret.
I'm sure as an adult it probably wasn't a secret but to me as a kid growing up with my awful mum it felt so magic to me. I don't think I've ever tasted lemon cake as nice as my grans.
She also used to do a sly thing because my mum used to tell everyone I was allergic to cake and sweets (utter crap as I've eaten them for years without her knowledge). So nan would give me some icing wrapped first in baking lining paper, then in foil and she would hide it in my backpack. I hated going home but when I got there, knowing that was in my backpack, made it a bit easier.
I miss her so much, she never met my DCs, but she taught me so much, happiness, mischief, and I catch myself doing something the way she would sometimes. I look like her too.