#52Stories, Week 20, Stories they tell

So this one has had me wracking my brain a bit. Favourite stories about Mum's childhood, or stories that my grandmothers told as well.

I don't remember too many that Nana told. Apart from the one about her grandfathers both having more than one marriage which got me hooked into genealogy, and ones about her great aunt going to America, and her uncles and their families emigrating there too. She didn't talk about much else. 

There was an aunt who ran a green grocer shop and some twin cousins who were blind. There was also someone else who would shut the doors and windows to them (as children) when they walked by. Who would do that ?! I used to think it was the same aunt with the shop - but now I wonder if it was the step-grandmother ? She also told us that if they were walking along the street and saw their father while he was at work, that they were not to acknowledge him. He was a motor car driver - originally a groom and carriage driver, later a taxi driver. It wasn't a good look to have your kids waving to you as you went about your business apparently.

Occasionally she spoke about infrequently going to visit their mother, but not in a lot of detail. Life must have been pretty tough, I think.

I don't know any at all from my paternal Nana, which makes me a bit sad.

Mum had stories which I remember her telling us though, and which she could tell in more detail.

Sitting in the fields at Grandma's in Middleton Road hiding amongst the raspberry canes and eating raspberries until you were full. Walking from Riccarton to Addington/Hilmorton to visit Auntie Edie. Mis-steering the pram with her baby sister into the ditch drain which ran along the side of the road. Having her hair cut short when said baby sister was born and her father had had enough of dealing with the curls and knots and morning hair drama of a 4 year old on his own. Sunday school at Church Corner. 

The time they were staying at Grandma's and the bed collapsed in the night with Nana and Auntie Anne ending up on the floor. 

The "pet" magpie at Grandma's who was a bit territorial and would hold her hostage as a small child in the outside loo until she could get away using the wooden lid as a shield to make it back to the house.

Sliding down the hill on cabbage tree leaf sleds after school at Highbank because the road was too steep for the bus to navigate.

The time of the big snow storm when her Dad had to hitch a ride on a railway jigger and climb down the intake pipes to get back to work at Highbank, from Christchurch.  The big storm at Highbank that blew in the roller door on the power house, and the slip which buried some of the houses. 

The wild cats that her brother would catch in the bush and bring home to try and domesticate. I can't remember all of their names. Spitfire was one !

Then there are the ones about the shenanigans as student nurses living in the hostel at Waikato...

I hope I have told some of my stories too - in case anyone ever wanted to remember and record them in the future.