Gran’s House
We have managed to escape the confines of our home during all this chaos of masks and hand sanitizers and are spending two weeks in our family farmhouse. The house that my dad was raised in. It is amazing how a house with cracks and squeaky floorboards and an idiosyncratic water supply can be so much more than that. In a rare moment I am sitting in the sun on the verandah by myself while Eva naps and Gray has some time with his Gran up in my own childhood home up the road. From my vantage I am looking across to the spot on the verandah where my Granny used to serve tea at 10 o’clock every morning. And without fail that tea would be accompanied by home made bread tomato sandwiches and scones with homemade strawberry jam. My Gran would top and tail fresh green beans on this verandah in the sun and always had a warm welcome lap for rouge grandchildren who came ambling into her yard. I only ever felt love in this home. Because I only ever felt love from my Granny. Heartbreakingl...