Granda

I don’t think there’s a greater blessing than being a grandparent, it’s one of those things only a grandparent understands. When I’m with my grandchildren everything else seems to evaporate as I morph into a cross-between some wise old sage and an even bigger kid than I usually am.

On Friday two of my little people (I have eleven grandchildren) are coming to stay and I’m really excited. Leah and Ellie live in quite a deprived built up area of Newcastle and so love coming to my farmhouse. Much of what they love is getting in touch with nature; long walks in the cow fields will be on the agenda as will picking apples in the orchard. I’ve also promised to take them ten pin bowling which they love but very rarely get the chance to do.

In the evenings the pencils will come out and we’ll draw. Maybe I should rephrase that. They will cajole me into drawing something for them to colour; because ‘Granda’s an artist and he can draw anything’. But the wonder in their eyes as they watch my pencil move across the paper without blinking, is pure gold.

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