Grandparents are not what they seem

They say the older generation are not appreciated these days by the young, and cast by the wayside. This isn't the case for Michael and myself. Both of us are of the opinion that we have rather nifty grandparents who seem to get up to all sorts of mischief. Michael holds his own in rather high regard, and is often sharing anecdotes about his late grandfathers. Let's just say Barrhead has to be a duller place without the indomitable George Collins! And perhaps this might encourage him to post his own blog with such tales. But what about my own grandparents? They all have a similar strength of spirit and quirk of character, that is worth preserving for posterity. So in no particular order and all that:

'Jean the Haricot Bean'

My mum's mum, known to all of my generation of the family as Gran, went by the rather impressive moniker Jane Anne Paterson Hunter Henderson. Everyone called her Jean, Haricot being a nickname I suspect my Grampsie gave her. Sadly, she passed away in 2004, but left behind memories that I'm sure will be passed on for some time yet.

Like all my grandparents, Gran was only in her forties when I was born. It is perhaps this that her youthful vigour can be put down to. Quite simply, she was slightly mad, but in a good way. She was probably the only grandmother amongst my associates who could go on a night out with you and dance you off the floor. Additionally, Gran was well known for her singing voice, and every party had at my grandparents house, it was compulsory for everyone to get up and do a song, in traditional Glasgow fashion. However, it was Gran who was the piece de resistance and the headliner. She was a small woman, at only '5 feet, one and a half inches' (her words), but she certainly had a set of lungs on her and could 'gie it laldy'. Her song was The Wonder of You, which would be sang with great gusto, her daughters on backing vocals and my Grampsie plinking away on his keyboard. I don't think a Henderson party was a Henderson party til she got up and did her piece.

Another thing I remember Gran for were her bizarre turns of phrase, the most memorable being "You'll get yer heid in yer hons tae play with" for anyone who was getting up to mischief. The first time she said this to me, I did a double take. When someone was ill, they were often told by Gran "It's far fae yer arse, ye'll no sit oan it." And to anyone was tired - "Ye've goat eyes like pissholes in the snow." It has to be said, Gran wasn't someone to be crossed and didn't suffer fools. She might have been wee, but she was scary when she got going - I can easily picture my six foot plus tall brother cowering as he got a ticking off from our Gran who came up to his shoulder.

I think one of my most enduring memories of her is once when we went shopping with my aunt. I must have been about eleven at the time. There we were in the old Pollock Centre (now Silverburn), walking along, when all of a sudden over the piped music came a 1950s rock n roll classic. The 1950s were the teenage heyday for Gran. Suddenly, surrounded by lots of other shoppers, Gran started jiving...

'The One Man Band`

My grandfather, husband of Gran, is 72 going on 17. These days he resides out in Eaglesham with his mad Westie Toby, enjoys bowling and going along to 'the club'. He is known to us lot as Grampsie. He enjoys the horse racing, and the football, getting royally pissed off if I call him during a game. In the family, his cooking is legendary, as are his musical abilities. He was in a skiffle band back in the day, and can play piano by ear. He has his own music room in his house where he plays his keyboards, or bashes about on an old guitar I gave him, Toby often sitting next to him howling along. Grampsies favourite band is Queen, though he is also partial to a bit of Paul Anka.

Wherever Grampsie goes, he normally starts tapping his hand on any available surface, stamping his feet and sings whatever happens to pop into his head. It can be a fairly entertaining experience. Once when I was living with my aunt, I was tidying up the kitchen and playing the Grease soundtrack. Grampsie came in for his daily cup of tea (and Toby his daily bark - the dog thinks it's human), and immediately started dancing, tapping and singing along to Greased Lightening . I had to make him a copy of the CD.

Grampsie is also quite hard of hearing, and things need to be loud for him to listen. So picture the scene at my brothers 21st birthday party. A rather dodgy DJ had been hired. This was someone who played what he wanted to listen to, treating it as if he was having a record session in his own home. Thus we were treated to very loud, very trashy dance music. Imagine Michael's glee, when Grampsie, after uttering some choice swear words, got up and told the DJ to turn it down so he could hear himself think. And down it stayed til Grampsie wandered through to the bar and the DJ thought himself safe.

'Ronnie Corbetts No.1 Fan'

My Grandma might be thought of as a quiet wee soul, which in some ways is correct. She is a beacon of sanity in many aspects, but at times has her moments. My dad's mum, Grandma resides in Paisley, and can be described as rightly proud of her Irish roots, of which she has taught me all about. Grandma was the youngest of nine kids, her mother, Sarah coming from Ballyshannon in Donegal and father, Thomas, coming from Ayrshire. She has lived in Paisley all her life and seems to be a proud 'Buddy'. Additionally she also financed my travel to and from uni in the last two years of my degree, so has a rightful claim on my degree scroll!

Grandma has come out with a few lines in the last few years, stopping me in my tracks on many an occassion. For your edification:

• During a telephone conversation in which the tennis was mentioned, Grandma informed me she enjoyed watching Wimbledon because she thought Andy Murray had nice legs.
• Apparently had a thing for Ronnie Corbert that used to freak her kids out. Karen-Anne, my aunt, and Grandmas only daughter, reckons it might be a thing of the past. I'm not so sure...
• Also thought Jeremy Clarkson was quite nice too until he happened to be disparaging of Gordon Brown as a 'one eyed Scottish fool'. As a Scot, Grandma was rightly offended.
• And let's not forget Engelbert Humperdink.
  

Grandma also has little time for computers and the internet and gets a tad fed up when I show Karen Anne how to do something on her laptop, resulting in us both getting rather involved. I recently suggested Grandma take a beginners computer course at the local library, enabling her to be a 'silver surfer' and also keep in touch with far flung family members via email. She actually seemed taken by it.

And so, the motto is, value your elders for the wisdom they provide and respect the fact they can likely outlast you at a party and deck you with a mean left hook if you are a scallywag!