blithe and bonny
July 21 
I was the child born on the Sabbath Day.
It was July 22, just after lunch, in my Nan's bed.
A deliriously warm and sunny afternoon, I was impatient to find my place in the world and surprised everyone in the little council house at Creswick Greave by arriving early and without complication. My Nan, nurse, trouper and sister to a multitude of brothers and sisters, even assisted the midwife in my delivery.
Upon my entry there began a riot of rejoicing and festivities in typical Yorkshire fashion, the semi detached building alive with the rampant swilling of cheap champagne downed heartily to the tunes of the swinging 60's played on the radiogramme.
Aye, luv. Our Claire had arrived! The blithe and bonny herald of a new and vibrant generation as Nan's beloved and only child ushered me into a brave new world.
By all accounts, Nan's own entry had been a glaring contrast.
One of fifteen children, born into what must surely have been the very slums of Sheffield in The Depression Years, her admission was acknowledged stoically, her early life in Wilson Street one of grim acceptance and quiet servitude, the chance of a good beating more reliable than a decent meal.
I remember sitting on her lap as a little girl, fascinated and horrified by tales of her childhood. My innocence and comfortable middle class sensibilities could barely imagine the conditions where 15 children and their parents shared living quarters with the singular Wilson Street toilet shared by 12 families in their terrace houses all one up, one down.
Blinkin 'eck!
Yet my Nan, fiercely proud, witty, warm and wise in the way that all grandmothers are, never lapsed into maudlin as she recounted tales of working in the steel mill from the age of fourteen, the brothers who "licked rood clean wit tongue, after workin' down't mine," the warm urination that would take place on winter's nights to warm the cold bedbug bitten legs, the clothes she never owned, the shoes, passed down from one child to another, padded with newspaper to block the holes.
Even on her wedding day she owned not one stitch of clothing, all she wore borrowed from her new husband's mother, her wedding inconveniently shy of pay day and her own family items taken down to the pawn shop for credit.
Of her short married life she was conspicuously quiet, horrible details of her darling Johnny's death emerging more than thirty years later.
Returning from the war to a daughter he had never met and a wife left pining for him, a tearful confession revealed that he had been unfaithful.
Shocked, betrayed and bewildered, Nan told him to leave, to never darken her door again. He didn't.
His body was found beneath Ball Bridge the next morning, massive head injuries and a missing money belt clues to a violent and untimely death.
My Nan, abandoned and aghast, was left to deal with the press who, inflamed with this war time horror on home soil, pursued her relentlessly, a fact and it's history that Nan kept quiet from her daughter, almost miraculously, until she was in her thirties and Wilson Street was a world away.
We were enjoying life in the wide brown land by then, a curious bunch of pommie immigrants by anyone's estimation. We were a tribe, Mum, Dad, my brother and I, Nan, her sister and constant companion Jennie, my Gran and Grandad, indeed all my grandparents, in their little granny flats on either side of our sprawling property in the pretty orchards of Carmel.
For a young girl it was blissful. I spent days following my Nan, sitting at her knee, thrilled by her tales of life in Wilson Street, marvelling at the laughs and the joy she found in her life despite a childhood of abject poverty and some cruel twists of fate.
Despite a consequential change in circumstances, new found comfort in a new and forgiving land, Nan clung to her frugal ways, instructing me in the art of recycling, rekindling the beauty of thrift shop buys, the simple joy of work performed diligently and with purpose, the reaping of it's rewards and the abundance that can be gained by giving some back to those who need it more than we.
Lessons at my Nan's knee were profound and precious.
Her extraordinary strength of character, her prevailing spirit and an unfaltering belief in the power of love have entered my heart through her memories; her deep love for me and the staunch defence of this wild and headstrong grand daughter of hers a glorious reminder of how lucky I am to have had her so close, for so long.
For the first time I celebrate my birthday tomorrow without the sound of my dear Nan's voice, her death last year the closing of a chapter I hoped would never end.
I miss her twinkling eyes, those proud cheekbones, her wide and easy smile, her sharp earthy wit and the generosity of heart and spirit that gave all and wanted nowt in return.
Yet I have my memories, dear reader.
I have a vision of my glorious grandmother before me and the promise made to her that one day I will write her story.
It seems apprpriate to me as well, dear friends, that on the eve of my anniversary I share with you some profound pearls of wisdom my Nan was kind enough to share with me. Tek heed. See thee:
1. Summat'll turn up. (something will turn up)
2. Watch out for men, luv. They're all lookin' to get claw in...
3. I don't know how they grow it, luv, but spaghetti's a marvellous thing.
4. Pavarotti is King. (oh, how she loved him!)
5. Give and thee shall receive.
6. If ye've not got owt to say that's nice, keep thee mouth shut.
7. You don't get owt for nowt. (you don't get summat for nothing.)
8. Be happy with what ye got and begrudge not those who have more than you do.
9. Contentment is the greatest gift
10. Thoughts are living things.
Oh and they are, luv.
If only ye'll believe.
Aye, sithee.
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Reader Comments (42)
I look forward to the book Minx!
Please write about your Nan, she sounds inspirational.
What a magnificent spirit! No wonder you love her and continue to be inspired. I believe in honouring our elderly members of society like this and with such a story to tell, it is beautiful.
Thank you.
Happy Birthday for tomorrow. x
What a wonderful wonderful vignette. I LOVE this piece Minx. You granny sounds priceless (as do all your family for that matter) and my favorite is " Thoughts are living things" This is a profound truth (she says with a solemn countenance) The poor poppet must have gone through horrible guilt after your granpa died.....Her life sounds like it has the makings of a good novel. You've mentioned that you're writing a novel- is it her story by any chance? Oh, and is that her on either side of you?....she looks ...familiar
PS what does sithee mean?
this was a most beautiful tribute... and the greatest gift you could have given yourself on the eve of your birth....a comforting seat on gran's lap.. in the warm embrace of her arms,, with the whisper of her words forever in your ears....
Couldn't have said that better than Paisley. :)
So wonderful to have had such an amazing woman behind and with you, she'll surely walk with you and in you your whole life.
Happy Birthday Claire! Hope you're whooping it up and having a drink to your wonderful future, and the legacy you are still creating.
Love, love, love.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Claire? What a beautiful name. I found you a surprise from culinary school. It is called a celebration cake. Pretend it has candles and do have a look see. Remember to make a wish.
When we are fortunate to have lovely memories of our childhood it is a time to remember how very fortunate we have been in our lives.
May you have a wonderful birthday and many more to come.
Best birthday wishes,
Theresa
a mere token of my love for you.... happy birthday
"linktext"http://why-paisley.com/2007/07/21/blessed-birthday-beguiling-one/
Happy Birthday, my dear Minx. I hope you have a glorious day. In fact, no - I positively DEMAND it!
Best wishes!
xx
Beautiful minx... my heart is with you on your special day. You are a gift for all of us.... as in reading your beautiful words we can see inside your soul... my daughter nicolette shares your birthday and why not..two of the most captivating people I know sharing the same special day on opposite ends of the earth... thank you for sharing your wonderful nan with us.. She is still with you everyday and smiles down on you with love... xxxooo kimmykat
Happy happy day, my darling dear!
And what a special treat to hear not only a first hand account of the Marvelous Minx's first day in existence, but another amazingly beautiful and touching account of darling dear Nan! I feel like I know her so well - thank you so much for sharing more memories of her!
Happy early 25th birthday, beautiful!
Cheers!
Much love!
Happy Birthday Claire.
Wow, what a beautiful tribute. I must admit I started to cry mid-way and still my eyes continue to water. Your words oze with love and admiration for your nan.
I am jealous of this relationship you were blessed to have with your nan for I only met one of my Grandparents.
No wonder you have turned out to be the amazing woman you are, you warrant all the praise you recieve.
I wish more people would preach about "the abundance that can be gained by giving some back to those who need it more than we", these days notion of love thy neighbour is wiltering whilst greed is thriving.
Thank you for the advice Claire I really appreciated it.
XXXX
Happy Birthday to the undoubtedly delicious, decadent and darling minx in the whole of blogosphere.
You are unique and beautiful and you give all your readers something to smile about or learn from every time.
That's something!
May all the deliciousness in the universe be your companion on your birthday and the entire year!
Happy, Happy Birthday, dear Claire!
I hope the day brings you all of the delicious treats and decadent moments that you so deserve!
xoxoxo
Rapunzel
What a beautiful tribute, am sure your nan will be with you in spirit always.
Happy Birthday my dear minxy Minx, I hope you have a spectacular day.
Sorry for disappearing for a while, life was running too fast for me. But now I've got a moment I thought I'd do some catching up. By the way, I was at a wedding yesterday, do you have any suggestions on dealing with hangovers from hell?
Dear Minx!
Happy Birthday to my favorite blogger / writer.
May your day be a beautiful as you are. May you enjoy all things delicious and decadent. I hope you are given gifts as wonderful as your words.
Just know that I am thinking of you and sending hugs and kisses.
Meleah.
PS... I CAN NOT WAIT for YOUR BOOK. ... when you are published, I will find a way to get over this ocean and drink a toast with you. xxxxxxx
Happy Birthday Minx! I hope your day is just as wonderful and beautiful as you are :) Sounds like your Nan was full of wisdom and love...can't wait for the book! :) LOBO says Happy Birthday as well...
I wonder if you're asleep now living on the other side of the world. Funny that. Do you feel upside down?
I saw the award and thank you. I will get to it by tomorrow. I will have to post it on my original site though, not skdd.
I can just imagine you dancing and twirling at your party. Hope is was everything you'd hoped. Your Mother is beautiful too. Give her a hug from me please and thank you.
Did you see your Birthday Cake?
http://skdd.wordpress.com Oh, and if you did play pin the tail on the donkey, hope it didn't hurt.
XOXXXOX
Paisley has written the most beautiful post about you...
Hello Eddie,
I promised my Nan I would tell her tale...there are quite a few haircurlers in there, I can assure you!
They were hard days for those that had nothing.
I admire Nan for living through all that and being the warm and generous spirit she was. It's so easy to blame our less than perfect beginnings for what we do or don't do with our lives...
xox
Thank you dear Thinista,
Yes, Nan's life was quite the horror story...
I promised her I would tell her story but no, it's not the one I am working on at present. Nan's is still at the note stage, I'm afraid.
That is her lovely face on either side of me. You might remember it from another story I wrote about her called "Butterfly Wings". It was taken on her wedding day...
Indeed, she lived with the horror of Johnny's death for the rest of her life, but never stopped loving him. His photo was by her bedside when she died.
My youngest son looks so much like him, it's uncanny.
The Yorkshire language is full of thee and thy and ye.
Sithee is "See thee", ie, "see here', "listen up".
It's quite gorgeous xox
Darling Paisley,
Nan's words are always in my ears...Sometimes I hear her "tut tutting" and "blinkin' 'eckin"!!!
I miss her kind words and warm heart.
I am forever haunted by my last visit with her. I wrote about it in "Roses".
It is why I keep her picture so close. It is how I feel she would like to be remembered...
I absolutely love the post you did on me, darling...
I have printed it out.
What a beautiful birthday present!!
Unlike the hangover I am sporting this morning......
xoxoxoxo