Random Childhood Memory #4

My grandma used to have this liquor cabinet that was chock full of liqueurs, spirits and things with foreign labels that I still don’t even know the names of. I was always curious about them, because my parents drank pretty much every night, and at family functions the booze cabinet got a pretty good work out.
As a little kid at those family functions, I would hop from lap to lap, having my cheeks pinched, giving the old ladies the attention that they loved, and in return receiving sips from their glasses. Port, Ouzo, Brandy, Scotch, Wine, Beer – every glass was a new experience, a new taste.

My grandma, being a big softie, knew that I was intrigued by the endless bottles of mysterious alcohols in the cabinet, and so when I stayed there she would often let me taste tiny little bits from one or two of the bottles.

Then one day when I was about 11, I decided I wanted to see what it was like to have more than just a little sip. I snuck in and filled half a drinking glass with port, and the other half with coke. Turns out 11 year olds aren't that great at estimating a standard drink.


Needless to say, the results of that little experiment kind of diminished my enthusiasm for the mysteries of the liquor cabinet. And now, at 28 years old I have only recently been able to drink port without getting a little pang in my stomach at the smell.

My Quirky Nanna

I think my Nanna is going a little senile. She’s about to turn 80, and although she is surprisingly healthy and sane for her age most of the time, sometimes her behaviour defies explanation.


Take for example this week’s greeting card incident. My niece is turning five next week, and this year she’ll be spending her birthday in England with my sister-in-law’s side of the family. Because she won’t be around on the day, my Nanna did the good and proper Nanna thing and sent over a birthday card for her. It was a nice little card with a picture of snow white and the seven dwarves. In bed. Together.

You’d think that would be the tip off for her that it wasn’t exactly a kids card, but no - somehow she missed the writing across the bottom of the card that said “snow white still hadn't worked out how to tell them she was looking for someone a little taller...”


Nanna is full of little gems like that one. Her favourite trick is to use her mobile phone to call you and then forgetting to hang up, so that after leaving you a message on your answering machine, you can hear her complaining about your machine message or the fact that you never answer your phone.


Once, she bought me a ‘romance novel’ for Christmas. Now I’m not much of a romance novel fan, but when I’m short of reading material I’ll read just about anything I can get my hands on, so I thought I would give it a go. It turns out that it wasn’t so much a romance novel as an erotic novel. There were things in there that would make a porn star blush! I can only hope to hell that she didn’t actually read the book before she gave it me!


That’s just a small taste of the wonderful weirdness that is my Nanna. She’s my last living grandparent, and I’m happy that she’s still around to share her quirkiness with us.

The $2 Tradition

Reading about Badaunt's New Year tradition has reminded me of a New Years tradition that was part of my family for a very long time - I think because her descriptions of Okaasan trying to feed everyone up remind me a little of my grandmother.

On New Years Eve, my grandmother would bake a sweet-bread type cake with a $2 coin in it. On New Years Day, all of the family would go to her house and the cake would be cut into slices. One slice for the house, one slice for the whole family, and then one slice for each family member. If the coin was in your slice of cake, that meant that you would be blessed with good luck in the New Year. It also meant that you were $2 richer, which I guess is a nice way of starting your lucky year. Pity you can't bake a $100 note into a cake...

My grandmother passed away a couple of years ago and since then we haven't had a New Years cake. She was the traditional one in the family and the cook, so after she died, the tradition did too. As the cook, she was always trying to feed people up and she would never let you leave without having eaten an enormous meal and taking a parcel of food with you. She cooked a lot of traditional foods that everyone loved and that we miss now that she's gone and no one else knows her recipes. New Years always reminds me of her telling me to eat more, and of the big smile she would have after you had gorged yourself silly on her cooking.