It's 12.46am and I am sitting on the floor in front of my grandparents heater eating a bowl of Smiths crinkle cut chips in 'Original' flavour, a Lindt egg and a bottle of Mt Franklin water.
I love spending time at my grandparents house even though the drive here was a drainer. Instead of it taking us just over an hour, it took us closer to three hours due to Easter traffic, roadworks and rude truck drivers who wouldn't let us merge so we missed our freeway exit.
It's funny. When I was in my early teens it was always sorta like having to do the dishes every time my mum would tell us to get in the car to drive the short ten minutes up the road to their house. I guess that was partly due to the fact that when I was younger, I never felt a real connection with my grandmother. She always seemed to have a stern old-school English exterior, despite how funny and magic she was.
I'm not even sure if her and I would be this close, unless she had of gotten sick.
My grandmother suffered horribly for a year and was strong enough to survive an illness that runs deep in our family - cancer.
It was like being ill and surviving made her blossom. She is the grandmother everyone hopes to have. She can talk to you, be open with you and joke with you about love, sex, friends, pregnancy (or unfortunately in my case, the lack of it), life and although sometimes I'm sure she wants to slap me on the back of the head, I never feel like she is judging me.
We stay up until 3am watching Seven Brides For Seven Brothers. She wants a glass of scotch and coke at 11.30pm even though my grandfather is doing an excellent job of pleading his case about why she should be going to bed instead. She is extremely artistic. She thinks that spending her last $5 on a cappuccino at a nice cafe is living the life and she doesn't take any crap - from anyone.
I guess I'm writing this blog because A) It's what I'm thinking because I'm looking at her right now.. but mostly because of option B) She has started a blog and I want you all to read it.
Click here >> Nostalgia, Mystery And Arty Garden << to read some interesting, hilarious and creative posts from my grandmother.
Don't mind the fact that she hasn't added the photos to her stories yet - she learns how to do that tomorrow.
I love spending time at my grandparents house even though the drive here was a drainer. Instead of it taking us just over an hour, it took us closer to three hours due to Easter traffic, roadworks and rude truck drivers who wouldn't let us merge so we missed our freeway exit.
It's funny. When I was in my early teens it was always sorta like having to do the dishes every time my mum would tell us to get in the car to drive the short ten minutes up the road to their house. I guess that was partly due to the fact that when I was younger, I never felt a real connection with my grandmother. She always seemed to have a stern old-school English exterior, despite how funny and magic she was.
I'm not even sure if her and I would be this close, unless she had of gotten sick.
My grandmother suffered horribly for a year and was strong enough to survive an illness that runs deep in our family - cancer.
It was like being ill and surviving made her blossom. She is the grandmother everyone hopes to have. She can talk to you, be open with you and joke with you about love, sex, friends, pregnancy (or unfortunately in my case, the lack of it), life and although sometimes I'm sure she wants to slap me on the back of the head, I never feel like she is judging me.
We stay up until 3am watching Seven Brides For Seven Brothers. She wants a glass of scotch and coke at 11.30pm even though my grandfather is doing an excellent job of pleading his case about why she should be going to bed instead. She is extremely artistic. She thinks that spending her last $5 on a cappuccino at a nice cafe is living the life and she doesn't take any crap - from anyone.
I guess I'm writing this blog because A) It's what I'm thinking because I'm looking at her right now.. but mostly because of option B) She has started a blog and I want you all to read it.
Click here >> Nostalgia, Mystery And Arty Garden << to read some interesting, hilarious and creative posts from my grandmother.
Don't mind the fact that she hasn't added the photos to her stories yet - she learns how to do that tomorrow.
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