You are what you eat

My Grandma was an amazing cook.  I can't list all the things I remember her cooking as there would be too many, but the ones that stand out the most are all the roast dinners (including Christmas ones), lemon meringue pie (made with Grandad's lemon curd!), jam tarts, mince pies and scones.

Scones.  I just can't make them!  I wish I could!  Mine always seem to come out somewhere between biscuit and lead weight.  I remember my Grandma just making batches of scones like it was the easiest thing in the world - ones with raisins in, cheese ones and plain ones, all delicious!
I wish I could ask her how she did it.  I wish I had asked her and we had baked some together so that I could make them myself now, but alas I didn't and so I'll never know her secret!  One thing I do know is that whenever I try to make scones I always think about my Grandma, without fail.

When I think about it, lots of things in our family have centred around food.  I will never forget the roast dinner my Grandma made when she decided to try out Aunt Bessie roast potatoes and Yorkshire puddings!  She wanted to see what all the fuss was about, and thought maybe she would be able to save herself some time and effort, but she was disgusted with how they turned out!!  I can still hear her now, apologising about serving them up and promising never to do it again haha!  I am smiling and picturing it even as I write this!!
As a family, we always spend family celebrations squashed around a table that is just a little bit too small, to the point where we used to have to commute chairs to each others houses to get us all in!  I wouldn't have it any other way, just don't give me the seat next to the table leg ;-)
When we weren't squashed around a table at home we would always go out to eat.  In recent years we have celebrated birthdays at very different locations - we spent Grandma's 80th at L'Ortolan in Reading which has a michelin star, but more often than not we'd go somewhere like the Bird in Hand.  Grandma and I are quite similar in that we both love picky foods.  I love a good buffet!  Loading a plate with lots of different flavours and going back for seconds and thirds.  Grandma's appetite was not so big as mine, however Pete and I cooked an Easter lunch once, and instead of a starter we put out lots of little picky things, like olives, crisps, nuts, chorizo etc etc.  Grandma told me how much she loved that kind of food, and could pick at it all day, which is exactly what I am like.
We are also a family of BBQ fans!  I remember having several BBQ's around my Grandparent's house where we had to move the BBQ under the covered passageway down the side of the house because of the rain, but it never stopped us!
Most of all, what Grandma loved was to have all of her family around her, all together enjoying a good meal, a good drink and a laugh.

However, aside from the scones and roast dinners, there is one slightly random food that reminds me of my Grandma.  Once when I was at college, I called in at lunchtime on my way home.  Grandma and Grandad were about to eat their lunch and so Grandma offered to make me some.  It was melted cheese on toast, with a splash of worcester sauce.  I thought it would be rude to say that I didn't really like melted cheese on toast (yeah, I know I'm weird) or worcester sauce, so I said yes please.  And it was heaven!  I have never had cheese on toast as good as that before or since, and believe me I have tried.  I think it was all to do with the fact that my Grandma made it for me, and then the three of us sat and ate it together with a cup of tea and chatted about our day.  It's strange I know, but it was more than just cheese on toast, it was cheese on toast with a large side helping of love.  That was what Grandma's food always came with, a large side helping of love, and it's something I'm doing my best to carry forwards in life.  Food brings people together in the best possible way!

Grandma and some mince pies!

The Funeral - Continued

I didn't write anything in my previous blog about Grandma's funeral.  I didn't know what to write actually, so thought I would just put in the pictures.
Well, I've had a bit of time to digest it all now, so thought I'd write a bit about it.

The day started early, and emotionally.  I'd been feeling ok in general in the time leading up to the funeral, however that morning I felt constantly on the edge of breaking down - be it caused by some music I heard, or my make-up not going on right, or whatever.  I understand now that I had been putting a lot of my emotions on hold, but I just couldn't do it anymore that day.

We arrived at my Grandparents house, and it was a beautiful day so I went out to the garden with Francesca.  I was so pleased to see Francesca there, as she gave us all this positive ray of light to focus on, a distraction from what was really going on.  She knew there was something different about today, and she was on her best behaviour, she is such a sensitive little soul.  We showed her the mint plant that grows (and has done for as long as I can recall) in the top right corner of the flower bed and showed her to crinkle the leaves and smell them.  Dad showed her a snapdragon plant and where to squeeze it.  Greg and I found where the sweet peas used to grow by the wire fence on the left.  We showed Francesca a dried poppy seed head, and how the seeds came out of it, and she ate one of the strawberries that was ripe.  Greg and I reminisced about climbing the apple tree, and the bumper tomato harvests that garden has produced over the years! The brick wall of the outbuilding still has a target painted on it that has been there since my Dad was young!  Francesca was collecting stones and one of them turned out to be some chalk, so we showed her how it would draw on the bricks (not sure she believed it would until she saw it with her own eyes!).

And then the moment came.  The funeral cars arrived.  I had been holding it together but at that moment it all became very real and I was having to swallow back tears.  Everyone seemed reluctant to leave the house, so it took us a while to get organised and get ourselves into the two cars to follow the coffin on the journey to Slough, but eventually we were on our way.  What a surreal journey.  Slowly winding our way through Maidenhead and out the other side towards Slough.  I just kept thinking, the last time I made this journey it was to visit my Grandma in hospital.  I veered between OK and really not OK on the journey, but as we pulled into the crematorium and piled out of the cars into the waiting area I was in tears.  There was a bit of a wait, we managed a few jokes about the loo's and how noisy the doors were and so on, and then it was time to go in.

At this point, I had a moment where I felt that I couldn't breathe.  I have no idea how the rest of my family managed to remain so dignified.  We went outside to see the coffin being carried into the crematorium, and then followed in.  I was properly sobbing, desperately trying not to, and failing miserably to pull myself together!  The only person I remember seeing on the way in was my godfather Simon (you can't miss him, he's so tall!) but other than that I just kept my eyes on the floor and my mind on putting one foot in front of the other.

The service was really nice.  I mean, for a funeral service it was as lovely as you can get.  My Dad stood up and said a few words on behalf of my Grandad and the rest of us, and I don't know how he managed it but he did a grand job.  I was very proud (and yes, still in tears!).

We then went outside to view the flowers.  I should add, that at this point I really really wanted to run away and be anywhere other than where we were, or to rewind or something, as this part being over meant it was really really true.
The flowers, as you may have seen on the previous post, were absolutely beautiful.

From there, we travelled in the funeral cars onto the Conservative Club in Maidenhead for the traditional gathering.  I met people I haven't seen since I was a child (and apparently I went to that place a lot as a child but I have no memory of it!).  I drank a few measures of gin (with canada dry of course) and found myself sat in a chair next to my Auntie at one point.  My Auntie Nicky and I are constantly being told how alike we are by members of the family.  And they're not wrong!  We sensed we were being talked about, I think people were asking if we were sisters and we gave each other a wry smile as if to say 'oh that old chestnut about people thinking we are alike'.  Then we had to laugh as we realised how similar our outfits were, how we were sitting in literally the exact same position (legs crossed in the same way, both holding empty plates in the same hand - honestly, it's uncanny) and how we almost have the same hairstyle.  We were talking about how surreal it was to be there, and how it really felt a little like all this was happening to someone else.  So I guess you could say that it still hadn't really sunk in.

Later that evening, we all got together for a curry.  It was a wonderful evening, you know the sort where you just rejoice in being in each others company, and manage to have a bit of a laugh together to keep each other going.

All in all, not a day I will forget in a hurry, but one that I feel was just the right way to celebrate the life of my Grandma.  All together, as a family, just the way she would have wanted it.  I like to think she was there too you know.

Gin & Canada Dry

My Grandma's drink of choice!  I'm sitting here drinking one now and remembering the sizeable measures I always got when my Grandma poured me a gin.  We used to joke that there was more gin than tonic and it wasn't much of an exaggeration!  It took me a while to come around to the Canada Dry side of things but it's been a favourite of mine for a while now.

I remember when I was little I always wanted my drink to come from the special drinks cabinet in my Grandparents lounge.  You know those cabinets where you open a flap on the front which becomes a table on which to pour your drink?  I can't remember the first time I actually had a proper drink from the special cabinet but I have always loved that ritual of the flap coming down and all the different drinks being poured!

As kids, our treat was to be allowed a can of coke (never out of the can mind you, all drinks were out of a glass!), or if we were really good we would have some of Grandad's ginger beer which always made my nose itch from the bubbles and the strength of the ginger!!

The evening that Grandma passed away, I remember arriving at my Grandparent's house and walking in to see that the flap on the cabinet was open, and my Grandad was drinking a scotch. For some reason, it struck me then that I would never be able to share a gin with my Grandma again.  I thought briefly that maybe I should drink something else from now on, but then I thought about it and realised that every time I drink a gin and Canada Dry, I'll be reminded of my Grandma and sharing this drink with her on so many important milestones in our lives (oh and all those random times we just fancied a drink!!!).  So I was wrong when I thought I would never share a gin with my Grandma again. Truth is, every gin I drink will be shared with her!

The Funeral

All of the flowers together

From Grandad, for his wife of 60 years

From Greg & Francesca

From Me & Pete

From my Dad & Mum

From Nicky & Ian

In My Thoughts

My Dad asked me if I wanted to read out a poem or something at my Grandma's funeral.  As much as I would love to do it, I don't think I would be able to stand up in front of everyone without crying my heart out, and would therefore not be able to do any poem justice.  So instead, the poem below will be included in the service sheet as my little contribution.

This was the first one that popped into my head when Dad asked me, and the more I read it the more appropriate it seemed to be.  You can look at it from so many angles - as if it was us reading it to Grandma whilst she was in hospital, or as if it is Grandma reading it to us now to comfort us.  Whichever way, it's a beautiful and comforting poem.

I couldn't see you today,

So I sent you my thoughts.

Living and vibrant they sped through the air,

Out through the ether, through miles and through time.

I hope you received them and knew I was there.

I couldn't see you today,

So I sent you my love.

It travelled through space like a bright shooting star,

With the joy of the morning, the warmth of the sun,

To wrap itself around you wherever you are.

I couldn't see you today,

So I sent out a prayer,

For I knew you were troubled and heavy of heart.

And so with my thoughts, and my love and my prayers,

Though distance divides us, we're never apart.

Iris Hesselden.

It also seemed quite apt, because I found this poem in a book of poetry left to me by my Nan when she passed away, and one of my clearest memories from being at her funeral was standing outside afterwards and watching my Grandma as she carefully looked at the flowers and read all the cards.  I just remember her presence was a huge comfort and support for us.

Memories are Forever

I'm sitting here reflecting on the past couple of weeks and am feeling a little shell-shocked by it all if I'm honest.  Extreme highs, desperate lows, and pretty much every other emotion in-between.  Thinking about it, I could say the same for the whole year so far!
My mind is feeling a little overwhelmed in so many ways and I've been wondering where it will all end, or if this is just what life is like when you get older?  Or is it just that the last few years really have been as crazy as they seem?!!


Anyway, I wanted to write something here about my Grandma, and all that she meant to me.
I've been wanting to do it since I heard the news on Sunday 22nd July that she had passed away, but I can't seem to summon up the words.  I think it's because there aren't enough words to describe her and how I felt about her, how much I loved her, how much she has influenced me and how much I already miss her presence in the World.


When I think about it, it isn't so much words as it is a feeling I get when I smell a certain scent, see a certain flower, watch a certain thing on TV or eat a certain food.  At the moment, it's all a little raw so I find myself getting a little sad, but in a way it is reassuring at the same time.  I am reassured because this means she is in me, she is such a fundamental part of who I am, and that can never be taken away by her physical absence.  She will always be in my heart and therefore she'll never really be gone.


So, I am going to write out some thoughts/memories/random things as and when they come to me, so that you'll get to know a little about my Grandma and how amazing she was!

Cheers Grandma!!