It's been a while since I posted, and I think a lot of that is down to not really knowing where to begin with describing the life of my grandparents. I was quite close to them and it has been more difficult to work from a starting point that I am satisfied with. I did write this poem, however, and felt like it is worth sharing, along with a few remarks about its content. I am not sure whether I will stick their lives for a while or change back to a different ancestor. We will see. But for now, I present this.
I remember the silver tray with tea set
A little bell to ring, announcing it is ready.
I can still smell the flowers of the garden
And hear the stern warning -
Don’t hit the plants with the ball.
I remember Friday nights with beans on toast
Or egg and soldiers on the table
Later, Omlettes, on special occassions, a roast.
Walking through the bedroom door,
Turning round to see the wall
And bookcase filled with wonder.
Robin Hood and Arthur, best friends every visiting weekend.
Fish and chips for Saturday lunch
Walk along the promenade
Or by the boating lake and nature
Before 3pm and time to leave
And one day, home for ever after.
****
I want to break down the lines in the poem and explain the memory they come from.
"I remember the silver tray with tea set
A little bell to ring, announcing it is ready."
Nanna and grandad had a little trolley and ray that they often kept in their living room, and on this tray was a silver coloured tea set. I don't believe it was real silver, but to my childhood mind it was. There was also a bell and I remember pushing this trolley into the living room and ringing the bell loudly, shouting "Tea's ready."
"I can still smell the flowers of the garden
And hear the stern warning -
Don’t hit the plants with the ball."
And hear the stern warning -
Don’t hit the plants with the ball."
Nana and grandad's garden was really quite amazing. It seemed that flowers grew all year around and were stunningly beautiful. I was trying to find a copy of it, but don't seem to have a good photograph in my collection, so if you are reading this and have one, please feel free to send it my way.
As for not hitting the plants with the ball. My brothers and I, being British, loved football (soccer) and would take a small tennis ball and play it in the front garden. Often the ball would go into the flowers lining the grass, but we were always sure it did no damage. Nanna and Grandad were always sure it did.
I remember Friday nights with beans on toast
Or egg and soldiers on the table
Later, Omlettes, on special occassions, a roast.
Or egg and soldiers on the table
Later, Omlettes, on special occassions, a roast.
In my pre-teenage years, Nanna and Grandad would pick my two brothers and I up from school and take us to their house on a Friday evening. There we would have our favourite meals. They were simple, beans on toast - a British delicacy, which is self-explanatory, or egg and soldiers. Egg and soldiers is a soft boiled egg with bread cut into strips and buttered, lined up like soldiers for inspection. The bread was then dipped into the yolk and eaten before using a small teaspoon to eat the egg white. I loved it and still make it today on occasion.
Omelettes and roast are also self-explanatory. I loved those Friday evenings and couldn't wait for them to roll around. My grandparents would also bring a radio or small black and white television into the kitchen (They had a large colour one in the living room) so we could sometimes watch kids tv or listen to Grimsby town play football while we ate.
Walking through the bedroom door,
Turning round to see the wall
And bookcase filled with wonder.
Robin Hood and Arthur, best friends every visiting weekend.
Turning round to see the wall
And bookcase filled with wonder.
Robin Hood and Arthur, best friends every visiting weekend.
One little bedroom at my grandparent's house had a large bookcase at the foot of the bed. I believe it used to be my Uncle Michael's room. I loved running up there whenever I visited and selecting one of my favourite classics to read. The two most read were Robin Hood and his Merry Men, and King Arthur and the Knights of the Roundtable. I grew up loving their legends and wanting to be Sir Lancelot or Sir Galahad. I often also brought The Lion The Witch and The Wardrobe to read over the weekend, as we would stay over Friday night and come back home Saturday. At first the three of us would stay but we grew to be a hand ful and then we would alternate who stayed.
Fish and chips for Saturday lunch
Walk along the promenade
Or by the boating lake and nature
Before 3pm and time to leave
Walk along the promenade
Or by the boating lake and nature
Before 3pm and time to leave
Whoever stayed for Saturday would be treated to fish and chips, usually from a local place called Sutherlands. We loved eating Fish and chips, they were absolutely delicious. The fish was haddock. To this day I go out of my way to try and eat good old English Fish and Chips, but they are few and far between in Texas.
My grandparents lived near the beach and the promenade was a walkway that ran along the shoreline, with a pier which had a short walkway because it was cut back during world war 2. Sometimes were taken to walk along this and eat doughnuts, fish and chips, ice cream by the beach or sugar-filled candy floss. I still associate the smell of freshly made doughnuts and candyfloss with the smell of the sea, and vice versa.
The boating lake was a small lake, Americans would probably call it a pond, and you were able to rent rowing boats to go out onto it. I remember Grandad sometimes taking us out on one. Next to the lake they ended up building a small nature house where you could observe bee's making hives and other little creatures natural to the area. We loved this area as well.
"Before 3pm" refers to the time we always left to go home. Usually they would give us treats to take back with us, such as a packet of Rowntrees Fruit Pastilles or a Yorkie chocolate bar. I loved it.
Those are my fondest memories and even writing them down and sharing the poem has sparked a few others. Thanks for reading.
Those are my fondest memories and even writing them down and sharing the poem has sparked a few others. Thanks for reading.
Michael,this is such agood good starting point for you. Such wonderful precious memories that you have of your grandparents! And, to be able to put them into poetry like this is a fantastic way to honor them.
ReplyDeleteMichael, very well done! You made me think about memories I have of some of my older relatives from when I was a kid.
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing your talent with us in the Challenge.