GRANDMA’S BOOTS
I loved Grandma’s cottage – after
school I’d lie on her rag rug while she told the story of each scrap, eating
buns hot from the chipped yellow stove. She made soup with vegetable peelings
that Mum would have thrown away, never bought new clothes, and mended her own
boots.
‘Embarrassing’ Mum called her, but
she couldn’t stop me loving her.
Then one day there was no smoke drifting
from her chimney, no smell of baking.
Mum bought a frock to bury her in and
burned her old clothes, saying they weren’t fit for the jumble.
I hid her boots in my wardrobe.
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Thanks to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers on her blog https://rochellewisoff.com/ and to Courtney Wright for the atmospheric photograph. The stones on which the boots sit reminded me of the cottage my daughter and her husband are renovating in Northern Ireland - they will know exactly where I saw Grandma's stove!
Like many of you I have been busy writing, working on Wolf Pack, the second in my Living Rock series, and also preparing to publish another book in a completely different genre - historic drama/romance. Helter-Skelter is the story of Albie, his search for his gypsy father when his mother abandons him at the age of twelve, and eventually of his army service in the first months of World War Two.
Look out for Helter-Skelter by Elizabeth Young soon on Amazon.
