What are your childhood memories of your grandparents' house?

[ChaosTrulyReigns]

I was schrunching some foil today and it reminded me of the Vitalite tub of milk bottle tops for the Guide Dogs (always a concept I struggled to undersand) at my DGP's house.

And the whoosh hit of tomato smell in the greenhouse.

And the tea caddy of buttom at the other DGP's house.

And the duoble loo roll holder for soft paper (guests) and Izal (unfortunate family).

And rice pudding with skin on.

And a shiny 5p coin for whomever had the smallest new potato on their plate at Sunday lunch.

Good times. Bittersweet memories.

My grandparents, have had 4 homes between them, as they have downsized, but there is only one that stands out with me.

It was a farmhouse, with a courtyard and a brick wall to walk along, traditional buildings to play in, chickens, cats and a dog. There was also an orchard, fruit garden, green house and vegatable garden.

In the barn, we'd play in the straw, and make dens, and then drawer maps, so we could find our dens again.

My favourite memories are eating the peas, picking raspeberries, blackberries and gooseberries.

I also loved the house, especially the breakfast room, and the welsh dresser (I still need to buy my dream dresser). It was not smart (really rather tumbled down, no fitted kitchen or shower, and in need of central heating and rewiring), but I loved it.

When we stayed we'd get up at 6am to jump into bed with grandparents and sing nursery rhymes, we then got up to feed the cats and collect the eggs with grandma, when we got in we'd have porridge and pancakes. We'd usually then work in the garden (it was their great love) with grandparents. We may even make some raspberry jelly, pickle some onions, or help with fresh pea soup (our favourite) for lunch.

Later on, we may get on my grandad's old tractor to go to the bottom meadows and fish along the river, or feed the pheasants (he had a family shoot).

It was the good life, and we loved it.

They sold the farmhouse when I was about 11 years old, and although the next property was modern and beautiful, it was not the higgledy piggledy farmhouse that I loved.

They kept hold of the farmland as an investment, and always had a rental income from this. I still get to walk the farmland.

Pink candlewick bedspreads on the beds and a huge Singer sewing machine under the stairs :)

My memories are of my maternal grandma and great uncle, her brother (my grandpa died when I was very little). They had lived together their entire lives and rowed in the way only a brother and sister can. We would often turn up and find them not speaking to each other other some minor disagreement - it was hilarious.

Their house was full of broken things that they thought "still had some life in 'em" and so she was always burning herself with pans with broken handles or cutting herself on chipped cookware.

Her children had to wrestle clapped out white goods out of her house as they bought replacements.

Best though was her dressing table covered in costume jewellery that I played with endlessly and her bedside table with racy bodice ripper books that I read when I was about 12.

Her meat pies and homemade faggots.

Her heavily bejewelled hands and wrists that I would play with as she bounced me on her knees singing songs from the 40s.

Long time ago but the old black range in the kitchen, the Staffordshire oatcakes with bacon for breakfast and the dresser in the dining room (now in my dining room).

my grandma's lavender water
Minced beef and dumplings (they didn't cook much else)
Blue, fine bone china cups and saucers
Starched white tablecloth
High-backed armchairs with wooden legs
Flock wallpaper
A house that seemed to go up and up and on and on forever;so many places to hide
endless cups of tea
big tins of crumbling biscuits
the parade of moggies hanging round the back door and the garden waiting for scraps
little bits of soap collected in a jar to make 'jelly'
big juicy tomatoes that actually tasted like tomato

I just realised that both my grannies died almost 30 yrs ago now! I never met my grandfathers.

They inhabited a different world - looking back to their houses and their ways of life, it's more like a different universe.

One set had a little thatched farmhouse with dogs permanently stretched across the huge ancient flag outside the green-painted Dutch door. They were farm dogs awaiting their next mission and never moved for anyone except my uncle or grandad. They would look up amiably at you as you picked your way through the tangle of legs and tails trying to get in, and complicated your task by flapping their tails in friendly manner. I remember old paint cans painted dark green with geraniums planted in them on the outside windowsills, incredibly thick stone walls, old flagstones in the kitchen and a fireplace you could stand in and look up, with a hob and griddle, a slight smell of Kosangas from the more modern cooker granny also used, an icon of Pope Paul VI in the far corner of the kitchen near the table with a little red light constantly illuminating it, and a fly paper hung from the ceiling near the door. Granny, dressed always in a floral smock over her clothes, baked lovely shortbread and the kitchen always seemed warm. The little house had been there, tucked into the yard, away from the road down a lane lined with whitewashed dry stone walls for centuries, and you could feel that.

A few miles away, granny and an aunt and my aunt's little dog (whom we thought was our cousin when we were very small) lived in a Georgian dower house filled with lovely things from India and China -- in particular I loved two large watercolours of paddy field scenes done in tones of gold and terracotta that hung in the dining room. There was a huge engraving of a Roman chariot race in the hall, a scene of great drama and dreadfulness. When I close my eyes I can still smell the beeswax-polished wood, the roast, the roses, madeira cake and newly baked bread. We slid down the bannisters and used the drawing room furniture as gymnastics apparatus, and spent hours wandering through the orchard and the kitchen garden, climbing the trees lining the long avenue; on one occasion I got a lump of resin from a pine stuck in my hair that proved resistant to any effort of my aunt's to remove it, so I had to have a good deal of my hair cut off. There was a goldfish pond near the gate from the garden to the yard, with broken pieces of old china lining the murky bottom, pond weeds, lilies and the occasional flash of brilliant orange in the depths. Granny had a little greenhouse off the drawing room where two small peach trees braved the elements. I remember the smell and softness of the ripe peach she presented me with one morning for breakfast and chatting with her about places she had lived where even more exotic fruit grew.

Dear MNHQ - Can it go in classics please ? - it's brought a tear to many eyes ...
And makes us think about building memories for our DC's too

• although I don't think there's any fear that that's happening !

Blankets with satin edging and sheets on the bed, which made for very heavy bedclothes

Spending hours rummaging through my gran's button and sewing box, thinking I was tidying it for her.

Getting dried next to the old gas fire in the back sitting room after my bath

Playing with her ornaments - she never seemed to mind or worry I might break them. My own Monica Geller mum wouldn't have let me near her breakables!

Getting a 'starter' for my tea, which was always either a melon with a glacee cherry or a half of grapefruit with a glacee cherry on top. Pudding was always the best ice-cream in the whole world, from the tiny Italian cafe up the road which shed buy especially for me, just before I arrived because she didn't have a freezer.

Making drop pancakes and playing Gin Rummy every Sunday morning. The pancake griddle was my gran's most prized possession. It had been her mother's and it was never washed, just wiped clean every time. And I've just worked out that as my Gran was born in 1918 when her mother was 41, that means the pancake griddle was about 90 years old when I was using it. My aunt still uses it

I'm getting teary writing this - I loved my gran so much. She never met DS

I remember my great-grandparents too. Their names were Stanton and Irene, and they came from backwoods Kentucky. They moved to a little house on a side street in a mid-sized Ohio city, which was "moving up" in their world.

I don't have any memories of my Great-Grandpa Stant except of him sitting in a plaid armchair and watching "wrasslin' " (the professional wrestling on TV). He ate chocolates and mixed nuts. Once he had a chocolate box that played music when you opened it, and he let me open it as many times as I wanted. It drove everyone else mad, but he told them to leave me be. :) I was probably about 4.

My Great-Grandma believe in all sorts of old wive's tales and omens and such, but was not a religious woman in the traditional sense. Though she did often tell my father that she worried I would die as a child, because I was too happy and you weren't supposed to be so happy except for in Heaven. When I got older I would ask her what she was like when she was young and she would say, "Well, I had coal-black hair." That was about all she'd say. :) She died when I was 18 and I'm thankful I had so many years with her.

There were no toys at their house, just plain paper, pens, playing cards, and a family of china cats that I was not supposed to touch. And yet my brother and I never complained of boredom there because we were terrified of incurring their wrath. :) We were never so well-behaved!

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!

YYY classics please, this thread is gorgeous.

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.

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

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.

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.

@FellatioNelson

YYY classics please, this thread is gorgeous.

Ok, as you asked so nicely, consider it moved.

I remember my Nan dipping toast into her tea and my Granddad making THE BEST boiled eggs and toast soldiers EVER

I wish my children could have met them

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.....

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.

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 .

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

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?

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

Grandparent's prerogative.

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.

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.