annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary


GS and ED

So I've been collecting bits from my blog as I read through. These snippets are from a few weeks in August 2005. ED had been diagnosed with MS in 2000 and did have the occasional episode but always remitted to full health and was working, driving, living her life:

"And on Sunday, little GS (Elder Daughter’s son and my grandson), is coming to stay for the rest of the holidays which will throw us into a different life. He’s 6, full of energy, talks as much as his mother and grandmother put together and is generally a very happy, easy to get along with little boy. He’s always come here a lot and has a toy cupboard of stuff we’ve picked up at boot sales and a shelf full of books so he makes himself at home straight away.

I asked him on the phone the other day if there was anything he wanted to do while he was here and he said, ‘Play,’ so I asked him if there was anywhere he wanted to go and he said, very patiently, ‘Your house, Granny,’ so I guess we’ll be cool.


I've had some lovely haddock since the last paragraph and a big pile of salad and am now feeling sustained. Also had no1 daughter ED on the phone arranging delivery of grandson GS on Saturday for the week (hurrah!).

I find myself behaving like mothers some of you moan about and wish it were not so. I want her to live next door and if she insists on not doing that then she should come and stay all the bloody time. She thinks the rest of us are a load of hippie dead-beats and we are, but we're not contagious. I don't want her to be like me, I just miss her so much, even though she is a bossy self-righteous bloody rat-bag. She can sound just like Mum when she says, 'We're leaving early to miss the traffic, but don't worry, we won't expect you to be up, we'll go to the garden centre first.' She's all blonde and pink and fluffy and will not even contemplate trying dope despite having ms for which it is widely considered beneficial.

So on Saturday I am going to kidnap her and feed her lovely mummy food and... sorry, I'm drifting away. I wish I lived at a time when people bloody well stayed where they were though. Tito's town in Venezuela is like that - no family has moved out of his mother's street in his lifetime, although individuals come and go.




GS and I larked about in town for quite a while. He's a strange little boy. We had to buy a potato masher as the handle of ours had disintegrated and he was quite snitty about this - boring, boring, boring, he predicted. Till we got to the kitchenware shop where he was captivated by just about everything, 'Wow! Granny! look at THIS!!' He wanted me to buy him loads of weird stuff, but settled on a thing called a spork, which has a spoon one end and a fork with a serrated edge the other. This led to much debate about the knife element not being incorporated into the name - sporf would be better.


So, on the good news front, my brother came over today - there'd be a photo if I'd remembered - and he is a nice man. I'd told GS that my little brother was coming round - YD explained that this was Uncle Bro and he seemed quite excited. After Bro had been here a while, GS wandered off to talk to YD and said, 'I don't think Uncle Bro's coming.'
YD said, 'He's here now. That's him talking to Granny.'
'Him? He's just a man!'

What was he expecting??"

That's all I got tonight. I've taken ED to Pride today, in the blistering (For UK) sun, trying to keep her in shade by wielding a golf umbrella. It was this town's first ever Pride and was cool, but I felt sad all day despite the great atmosphere. I'd have liked to have been with people that wanted a bit of a jolly, to get a bit wasted. I don't have anyone to do that with and it makes me sad.

12:28 a.m. - 15.07.18


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