GRANNY'S HOUSE

            GRANNY'S HOUSE

 Granny's house was a magical place but I learned to keep well out of her way.
She had  a short temper and a sharp tongue.

When the adults were engaged in conversation (gossip), I loved eavesdropping, while pretending to be involved in something else.
The eagle eye of my Grandmother however missed nothing.
"Go through to the best room you, and don't touch my ornaments."

My banishment filled me with delight. Apart from escaping from her sharp tongue and savage cat Monty, who would pounce at your feet spitting and clawing, to Granny's great amusement,
I could now enter the "best room," a magic wonderland.

Of course , in defiance, I would explore and gingerly pick up one or two of the strange ornaments.
Creepy stuffed birds perched in dense foliage under glass domes both attracted and repelled me.
A tiny square transparent emerald green, glass clock I especially loved. You could see the workings inside, tick-tock tick-tock as a tiny pendulum swung back and forth hypnotically.
In the centre of the highly polished table stood a magnificent pink crystal affair, about three feet high, which I can only describe as trumpeting flowers, splayed out in all directions. An amazing piece of work.

An ebony display cabinet held the most fascinating array of souvenirs, brought from all parts of the world, from her siblings, children, nieces and nephews and the various lodgers who came and went and were treated as family....tiny sailors...animals and my favourite, a milkmaid carrying a wooden pannier over her shoulders with a pail of milk on either side. I could actually see the milk in my minds eye.
Never found out though as the cabinet remained locked.
 Only once she unlocked it admonishing me, "Stay back", as she brought out two solid striped balls, the biggest things in the cabinet.
 The 'Piggy Balls' as she called them, were in no sense of the word, 'toys', but she seemed to think my sister and I would enjoy playing with them.
They were like giant marbles, so heavy our little hands could scarcely lift them, but being as we were given this special treat, we rolled them back and forth over the floor, until we discovered we could crash them together with a delightful thud! The game ended then as Granny confiscated the balls and returned them to the safety of the cabinet, which was an incredible piece of furniture, carved all over with intricate shapes cut into the shiny jet black wood. Even the four legs it stood on were delicately curved.
When she died at the grand age of 86, my father, her eldest son whom she adored, inherited the cabinet which turned out to be riddled with woodworm!

Draped with luxurious silken bedspreads, a huge bed with many mattresses, under which she stashed her cash, stood in the corner of the room. With a struggle I would climb up and lie on top, daydreaming and feeling the softness of the coverlet, then carefully climb down again taking care not leave a telltale wrinkle, which would surely bring her wrath down on me.

The large walk in wardrobe however, was where the real magic began.
Dozens of boxes neatly stacked filled with pictures, letters, postcards.
The postcards of beaming fat ladies with rosy cheeks, men with knotted hankies on their head, blondes wearing kiss-me-quick sailor hats, made me laugh.
They carried happy messages from family, friends on holiday,
"Wish you were here, having a great time here in Blackpool, Torquay, Morecambe", or whatever holiday destination "See you soon, got you something for the cabinet" , Love Nellie, xxx Or Bridget/Margaret/etc., depending on who was on holiday. They all sent cards.
The most poignant however, even for me as a chid, were glossy black and white postcards with a splash of vivid coloured flowers or crosses or hearts. The sad eyes of servicemen in uniform dimly gazing into mine
and on the back, carefully written faded messages I couldn't understand, from those who probably never returned.

They disappeared after her death. I always wondered where they went. Later on I would see whole collections of them in antique shops and realise they were not as rare as I had once believed. .
thus stealing a little of the magic of my childhood.