My grandmother was from another time. In fact I watched so many matinee movies with
her over the years that I actually thought she was originally from a black and
white world, where all people did was sing and dance. It didn’t occur to me
that the film simply didn’t have colour and that the dresses, coats and hats
were possibly red, green or even lavender.
Gran only wore dresses
and stockings. I don’t think she even owned a pair of shorts. Or a pair of socks
for that matter! She was well into her 70’s when we finally got her to wear a
comfortable pair of tracksuit pants. Of course, they were never worn outside. That
would be unheard of.
For cooler days she
wore hand-knitted cardigans. Long coats if she had to go out into the weather. I
can still feel the soft wool of her cardigan against me as I hugged into her. I
was ever careful of her lovely brooches too.
When she went out she
carried a large black material bag. The bag was big enough to carry everything
she needed. Her purse, if it was likely to rain an umbrella and a lottery satchel – she played the same numbers for
years. No such thing as a quick pick back then.
She had her knitting in a small satchel in there that she'd produce at the footy or a weekend BBQ.
Gran was always knitting something for herself, my grandfather or baby clothes
for the hospital auxiliary. She made clothes for my dolls too.
And somewhere deep in
the bottom, was an occasional chocolate bar or bag of chips for us
grandkids. I loved that bag for all it held. It was not unlike Mary Poppins bag
I guess, although I never saw her pull a hat stand out of it.
When I had a sleepover
at her house I’d wake early and she would already be up with the tv on, sitting
in front of the fire, a New Idea magazine on her lap and a cup of tea on her
side-table. Pyjamas were not an option. That’s what men wore. She always wore a
nighty with a dressing gown over the top. The nighty’s length
was always well below the knee.
On her dresser was a
powder that she would pat on her face. I would watch her comb her hair and
fluff it up ready for the day. It never hung limp like mine. For special
occasions and when her hair had lost its body she went to the
hairdresser and had her hair set. I could always tell when she’d had it just
done. It looked just like the ladies in those black and white movies. And I
don’t remember it any other colour than grey.
Gran was one in a
million. She took us for rides on the bus to the shops. She would play ‘gotcha
back,’ an indoor version of chasey, which my grandfather would grumble about. He didn't like running in the house. We could run into the pianola or the cabinet filled with rolls. Gran gave us soft drink and let us sip it as we ran around, another thing my grandfather
would grumble about. “If you were really thirsty you’d drink it,” he’d say.
And best still, when
she came to our farm, Gran would ride with me on the back of our 50cc
motorbike, still wearing her dress, stockings and not so sensible shoes. I only
have great memories of a wonderful woman who stepped out of a black and white
movie into my colourful world.
I wonder what grandmother traits I will one day be remembered for? Probably my time will be known as the old days before everyone had a flying saucer and wore a onesy everywhere!
p.s. My mother assures
me that funny looking helmet was regulated safe for motorbike riding. Safe
maybe, ugly YES!
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