The Granny and the farty raspberries


Two days a week I am Granny Nanny for my two year older granddaughter. She is quite happily enjoying the terrible twos at the moment. A very bright, verbal child, she can argue her point quite well, but it always comes back to the throwing on the ground and  quite definite strings of NO! to any request to get dressed, put on your shoes, clean teeth, eat anything at all. 

I know why we have children when we are young – we have neither the energy, nor, dare I say, the patience to parent children in our mature years. Of course, when we were young parents it was still permissible to smack. Not saying that it was right, as viewed with 21st century values, but it did happen and it was accepted. Now it cannot be contemplated, and I in no way disagree with that. But dear, they can be exasperating!

More often than not, I find myself trying to explain to her that if she would just get dressed, put on your shoes, clean teeth, eat anything at all, there and then, she could resume whatever game, or activity she was pursuing in faster time than it takes to throw herself down on the floor, or cross her arms and jut her chin out at me in defiance.

“Look, we have a job to do here, neither of us wants to do it, but let’s just get it over with and continue with the rest of our lives.”

The foot gets stamped to emphasis her point, just in case I missed the fact that she had no intention of getting dressed, putting on her shoes, clean teeth, or eat anything at all, this side of her twenty-first birthday.

I tell her to use her words to talk to Grandma, instead of squeals and yells. I bribe that she can play on Grandma’s iPad if she will just get dressed, put on your shoes, clean teeth, eat anything at all. Sometimes that wins some break in her defenses. However, this week I struck Granny Gold.

I found that all I have to do is to pucker up, and make the fartiest raspberries that a Granny ever produced in the history of desperate Grannies. The louder and ruder the sound production; the louder the giggles, belly laughs and gales of laughter in return. She is putty, of should I say, playdough, in my hands.

I am just dreading the day that I have to resort to my bag of farty raspberries in public though. I know the day will come, all too soon, but what is a Granny to do if you want them to get dressed, put on your shoes, clean teeth, eat anything at all? 

I am up to it though. A Granny has to do, what a Granny has to do. And just think of the memories I will leave her!



Time Merging with Endeavour

not just another boomer blog.

… all the time merging with a unique endeavour To bring to bloom the million-petalled flower Of being here.

Philip Larkin Old Fools

I’ve been blogging for over ten years now, but at the end of last year, after years of “being pecked to death by ducks” (Maya Angelou) I crashed and burned from a career in education into early retirement. So, the blog that was me, no longer felt like me. It just didn’t fit who I was then, and who I am now, or rather who I am becoming now.

This year I will celebrate 60 years of living. I own that, it feels good. No use pretending, as we all will die on the day we are going to die on, no matter what age we claim to be!

I’ve been married for over forty years, have three grown children, and as I write this 3 and one third grandchildren. I am blessed and grateful. Being grateful is something I do a lot of these days. Some days it is difficult – I am currently dealing with post-work related stress and anxiety which means some days I don’t always experience any unique endeavours.

After the Alzheimer’s related death of my Dad some years ago, my Mum is now in care due to dementia. I suspect, or fear, my genes may lead me along the same path, so making memories with my grandchildren is very important to me.

I am Australian, living in the state of Queensland. Five years ago we moved from Brisbane to a small rural town. We have a hectare of land that has become a small refuge for local wildlife. Most mornings we can see kangaroo and  pretty faced wallaby, hares and rabbits (though rabbits are a declared pest in Queensland – so much for the rabbit proof fence!), brush turkeys, kookaburras, galahs, rosella birds and any number of other wildlife living their lives amongst us. Sadly, we also have the odd snake. The day I found a baby snake in the bathtub was the day we got new screens on the laundry door! We don’t just call it home, we call it paradise.

Stereotypes have never been for me, so don’t expect this to be just another baby boomer blog. I defy classification,  though I  just did that very neatly didn’t I? Did I mention that I used to be a Teacher Librarian? Maybe that brought on the taxonomy of classifications!

Well, let’s see where this endeavour takes us.