This week I have been learning to write about what I know. Reading exerts from ‘Cider with Rosie’ by Laurie Lee and ‘Death of a Naturalist’ by Seamus Heaney to see how descriptions of places can be made. I had to write a piece from my own memory and came up with this:
Grandma would shakily answer the door and give you a big kiss then it would be through to the living room with its huge round rug in a pattern of I think red and pink. Sitting on the possibly leather sofa we would patiently await our egg sandwiches to be wheeled in on the hostess trolley with a side of plain flavoured crisps. On the shelf there were ‘dust gatherers’ as she called them; a 1950s black and white ceramic girl with a full skirt and Jackie O shades, a small silver bell that was shaped like a Victorian woman, a wooden figure of a couple that would turn to kiss when you pressed a button at the back. My sister and I would eagerly check the ‘secret drawer’ which was a drawer in a cabinet in the bathroom where Grandma would always leave some sweeties for us. After lunch, tea would be poured and Grandma would try to teach us how to knit. We would marvel at the new set of knitted dolls she had produced.
My Grandma died two years ago over the new year period at the grand old age of 98. She had lived a good life. I think her death had an impact on me as during my breakdown I felt as though she had been reincarnated into me, hence I had become 100 years old. When Grandma died I did not receive the news straight away as I was partying on the island of Koh Phangan but I was visited by the ghost of Federica Genovese who sadly passed away in February 2013. I also felt her presence when I was psychotic.
This week is going to be quite hectic as I am helping Ellie move house and have spent the whole weekend at her new house helping to paint floors and doors, getting it ready for the move day on Thursday and Friday. Tuesday and Wednesday I am working and today (Monday) I am studying.