Grandma and Grandpa’s Garden

Christine K. Sales

by Christine K. Sales

Story

My grandparents were British. They lived on the south coast of England, near the sea. As a child that was amazing. We had the best of both worlds. The German grandparents in the north of Germany on a Farm between “Fachwerkhäuser” and the English grandparents at the seaside.

My English grandfather was also a watchmaker. I found it fascinating as a child, to watch him taking a jewelled watch apart, clean it in a watch washing machine, to then put it together again, but so precisely that it kept good time. Today’s watches are nothing compared to these.

Their garden was simply amazing. Down one side there were huge hydrangea bushes. I remember the gap in the bushes, to get through a door which lead into the garage, where in later years my first car stood for a month until I had enough money to insure it.

Further down the garden, across a well looked after lawn, was a huge bush with a path either side of the garden through it. Beyond this was a vegetable patch. Things grew well here, and the smells of runner beans, marrows and the earthy smell when pulling out carrots. Along the sides were different fruit bushes. My job – picking the berries – blackberries, raspberries, gooseberries. Black tongues, worms in the raspberries and hairy gooseberries. Never liked the gooseberries or the worms!

In the conservatory, which was attached to the house, were tomato plants and geraniums, among others. Grandma also let her budgies fly free in there. The smells in the conservatory were very much dominated by the tomatoes and geraniums, especially after the sun had heated it up, as it was almost entirely made of glass. The budgies had many places to perch and they sang beautifully. They were very tame, so your finger, or even your head, served as a place to perch. That made us kids laugh.

Grandma also loved hedgehogs. There was always a family of hedgehogs in the garden. So cute. We used to creep down the garden evenings, either by moonlight or with a torch looking for them. If you have ever wandered down a garden of a late summers evening at dusk, you will remember the feeling of being so close to nature. The garden also smells different after the heat of the day has passed.

Then, in the morning, barefoot across the dew-covered lawn…

These are the things that memories are made of…

© Christine K. Sales 2020-08-25

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