My grandma's kitchen was so humongous
I couldn't see much over the table top
Where most of the meals we had were eaten
Where she prepared food and eggs were beaten
Her sink was red clay with cupbpard under
Each side were benches to place bits and pieces
With curtains hiding pots and pans below
Glass cabinet had best china on show
The floor there had some awful well worn tiles
That were so cold to my baby bare feet
So Mum held my hands with my feet on hers
And sat in high chair whilst Grandma's cat purrs
The kitchen had fours doors, one to the larder
Two to lounge, three to bathroom, four to yard
She'd lots of beaut flowers growing out back
Granddad grew veggies and fruit they'd not lack
In remembering many years ago
I feel like crying for all that I've lost
Grandma holding me singing a lullaby
Eating Christmas turkey in years gone by
Image found at https://www.pinterest.com.au/pin/544654148661961481/
Perhaps the memory lives on through you..it is sad how quickly time passes and how many things and people we lose but hopefully they are kept alive in some way
ReplyDeleteThose times shine golden in my memory too, Robin, when we had a big extended family and would gather at my grandma's. My grandma had a big black fluffy cat called Big Boy. She had so many flowers in the yard, and a big weeping willow with a hammock underneath where i spent a lot of time. I love your poem of remembering. Those small feet!
ReplyDeleteP.s. i also love the description of the kitchen, humble and serviceable, not like today's kitchens with their huge marble islands, like magazine ads. I remember my grandparents living modestly, "making do". They would be appalled at the cost of living today.
ReplyDeleteWhat a wonderful poem Robin. our kitchen had several doors too - to the pantry, bathroom, dining room, backyard with garden and fruit trees, upstairs....My memories of that time are golden as well. Our kitchen was huge - and serviceable - not all decorated like today's kitchens. Mine is the same way today.
ReplyDeleteI can tell that you enjoyed this writing as those memories came flying in. Same here. We were similar although we didn't live with our grandmother but did visit on Mondays for washing and Saturday nights for TV. None of us had tile floors (floor there had some awful well worn tiles), ours were all wood. Some had linoleum.
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A lovely warm memory of your Granny and her kitchen and all the love you remember.
ReplyDeleteThere’s such a difference between your grandma's kitchen and mine, Robin. My nan had a scullery, so tiny two adults couldn’t fit in it. The pantry was in the parlour, where we did everything: eat, listen to the radio, watch TV. We only went into the ‘front room’ when we had visitors and in the winter it was really cold as there was only a gas fire, which they never lit.
ReplyDeleteI love the rhyming in this poem, the image of a table so big you couldn’t see over it, where eggs were beaten, and all the best china in the glass cabinet.
Like you, Sherry’s prompt brought a flood of emotions rushing back. Thanks for a lovely poem.
ReplyDeleteOh, how wonderful it is to have such memories. Thank you for sharing them with us.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful memories!
ReplyDeleteThis sounds like an amazing kitchen... i bet they could do magic there.
ReplyDeleteWhat an amazing description of this kitchen!
ReplyDelete...memories are so very important. Thanks for sharing your Grandmother and her kitchen.
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