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I come from a large extended family, the eldest of around 30 grandchildren on my Dad's side and second eldest of a similar number of grandchildren and step-grandchildren on my Mum's side. Dad is the eldest of nine, Mum the second eldest of five, plus four step siblings. No wonder with such a large family, and with many of us young both in age and at heart, that we have stories and memories galore.
However, four people are featured most fondly in my memories of my family: my paternal grandparents, and my great grandparents West.
Nan and Granddad Chap (short for Chaproniere) were always a great team, but Granddad in particular was a real character. He was the gentlest man I've ever known. Because the family was so large they owned a huge steel catering teapot, and Granddad would line up the cups on the kitchen top, hold the teapot high and pour the tea in a slow, single stream across the cups. He was particularly good at making masses of toast the morning after family parties, as people gathered themselves off beds, floors, sofas, chairs and no doubt the bath and stumbled down to breakfast. The toast would be lightly toasted and piled high on a large plate, and set in the middle of the table, and Granddad would go back in the kitchen to make another batch as we munched our way through it and as more people surfaced. The downside to this method of making toast was that the steaming toast in the middle of the pile, after it had been buttered, would sweat and go rather soggy.
In summer he would come downstairs in his trousers and string vest, see us kids sitting at the table or lounging around on chairs and sofas in the sitting room, then place cherries over his ears, hold out his vest and "ballet dance" around the room. My sister hated runny noses, so he once took some white candle wax off a candlestick and stuck it up his nose. He covered his face with his hands and pretended to sneeze in front of my sister, then took his hands away to reveal the wax, which looked like snot hanging from his nostrils, and exclaimed, "Quick, Dawn, get me a hanky!" My sister screamed - and the rest of us laughed!
My grandparents would always have a party very soon before Christmas, and would arrange a lucky dip for the children, for which Granddad dressed up as Father Christmas. He would announce that he was popping out for a walk and leave the house by the back door, where he'd have the Santa suit ready to change into under the lean-to at the side of the house. As Father Christmas,
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Reflections: Family stories and memories
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