Gran is a creature of habit; she wakes at the same time every day and then reads for half an hour. Breakfast is at 9am whilst decisions are made about what to have for lunch. Lunch is at midday and involves discussions on what to have for dinner. Dinner comes at 5, after which preparations are made for supper at 9. Bedtime comes around 10.30pm… depending on how ‘shite the TV is’.
My Aunt arranged a party so her friends could meet Granny…
Gran: What time are folks comin’ hen?
Aunt: Around 9
Gran: 9? At 9PM? Folks are no comin’ tae DINNER till 9pm?
Aunt: Everyone eats late; no one will come any earlier
Gran: Hen, at 9pm I’ll be in bed wi ma book
Imagine a twenty-minute conversation regarding the pure madness of eating so late
Aunt: Look Mum, if you want to go to bed no one will mind, you just sneak off to your room and I’ll look after everyone
Granny: Aye, I will hen, dunnae you worry aboot that
At 4am the next morning my Aunt came to tell me that I needed to go and ‘sort out’ Gran… I found her in the garden teaching guests the Highland Fling whilst singing old Scottish folk songs. When she stopped to tell someone to pour her ‘another wee dram’, I pulled her to one side…
Me: Are you okay Granny, do you know how late it is?
Gran: Look hen, if you want to go to bed nobody will mind, you just sneak off to your room and I’ll look after everyone
That’s my Gran!