I have lost another grandparent. And although I knew he was going quickly, the fact that he is gone is still a shock.
I am his oldest grandchild in a total of 13 and upon my arrival he decided upon his new title by simply stating "Just call me Grandfather." And so we did. He now has 8 and half great grandchildren too. Hre is some of what I remember about growing up around him.
Grandfather was not a complex man. He called a a spade a spade and god help you if you argued it was shovel! The man was not known for being wrong..ever..
So it always surprised me that our regular Easter camping trips always got off to a shaky start. You could guarantee something not working or going missing at out time to depart. The swearing and cursing from him and my Dad was reknowned!
Camping up the Murray or at Lake Hindmarsh focussed around Grandfather. In the early days fish were plentiful and we all remember the Easter egg hunts. Later the fish disappeared and Granfathers damper became a tradition. I loved the way he swing the billy tea around a full 360 degrees. I was always amazed that it never spilled!
I avoided the fish gutting table ( and still don't eat fish to this day), but Grandfather was always there knihe in hand. And still to this day he waned me away form certain knives at home, that he had sharpened himself. I can remember him trying to teach us to sharpen knives as kids, but he always did it the best..It was his specialty.
His other talent was nick names.. He taught the cocky to say "Hello fat bum" to Nana and his favourites for me were 'flossy square toes' or more often 'flossy flat tits'. As the years passed he eventually stopped refering to me by them...
He nurtured our love of animals too. Grandfather kept birds, dogs, goats and horses. Although he wasn't quite so fond of cats. Always reminding me of cheap ways of de-sexing ( a bag with a hole in and a pocket knife) and euthanasing ( a bullet) them. He loved Nathan's fascination with insects, rigged up the Shetlands for Katelyn, Mathew and Joshua and I think he was pleased when I started to show an interest in horses.
He encouraged me in his own way and would always walk down with me to see them. These are some of my fondest memories of him. The day he gave me his unbroken pony Gracie was one of the best of my life. I could hardly believe it. He had made my world. The man was loud and tough and self righteous - but he loved his family and was so generous. That I can ride, the relationship I formed with that horse and my love for those animals and him was all sealed in that one moment.
And even as recently as last year we chatted about my horse, riding and as usual he was as proud of me as ever. Without ever saying so, I don't believe her ever regretted one day giving me that pony.
But he did regret giving me plants!A man proud of his garden flowers and veges alike, he tried again and again to give me something that I couldn't kill. He gave up and the dead daisies in the pots in my front yard..They may be long gone but I think I'll keep them a while longer.. A visit to or from Grandfather always resulted in a 'tour' of the garden. It was one of the common interests he shared with his daughter in law, my mum Faye. The two would wander around pointing out this and that for ages.. I probably should have been paying more attention! Boysenberries were also a big part his life at one stage. There was many a time us grandkids ate more than our share. But they were delicious.
My oldest 3 daughters remember him best for the flowers he picked for them at every visit.
They are only three of 8 and half grandchildren he has. His first geat grandson even has his name, Katelyn's son Zachary Stewart. He showered parise on them constantly, and taught them songs.
My girls loved visiting him on Sunday mornings. W would rush like the blazes (we are not morning people!) to get to my parents house before they had left. The girls never had their hair done before arriving, I think once we even arrived still in our PJ"S! Kisses and cuddles and a quick cuppa later and he would be lifting Nana ot of her seat to go. Deaf and stubborn, I would mention a topic loudly that I knew he would not be able to resist arguing about and he would stay an extra twenty minutes! The perfect con.
He may be gone, but our family still all met this Sunday morning. We had breakfast together, which had become the tradition, seeing as skipping brekky at home got us more time with him and Nana. We had a cuppa, the kids played and we realised that this new tradition has bought our family close togther. He was part of that. He is part of us. Loud, proud stubbon and always right. We love you and will miss you...
Toadstools..AKA fairy housing project..
This is what she does with her tongue these days?? Cute or signs of feralness?? Will let you know!
