The Crosby Mafia

We responded to a summons from the woman in charge. You don't argue with a summons. You also don't argue when she tells you that you are going to see the second in command as well.

It's not worth arguing, because it's always a lovely afternoon when we go and see Nana and my Great Aunty Rose. For a start off, my nana makes me laugh, a lot. She tells rude jokes, she has her own peculiar ways and interesting slant on the world, and I just love her to bits.

She cooked us a really nice Sunday lunch - roast chicken, stuffing balls, roasties in goose fat (from M&S mind, she doesn't do potato peeling anymore!), carrots (just right), peas and sweetcorn, and enough gravy to float the Ark Royal on. Then home-made apple pie, but we were all stuffed so we deferred pudding to later.

After lunch, Nana showed us the memorial coins that were minted to commemerate the 20th anniversary of the Hillsborough Disaster. They are huge, and on one side, the name of each of the 96 victims is engraved. Having just read some of the articles on the internet, I am still minded of the horror and shock that reverberated around the world as a result of that day.

On another historical note, Nana passed on to James a special pack of coins - from the time when the UK moved to decimalisted currency, along with a bag full of farthings, half pennies and threepenny bits, some of them dating back to 1882! A treasure to be sure.

We trundled off to Aunty Roses. Had to check her fridge. It's kaput. It's more like a warming device for butter and milk. She's off to get another one tomorrow.

Nana and Rose are priceless together. Rose got out loads of old photos of her and my Uncle Lofty from way back when. Lofty died, before my brother was born, and when I was only a wee'un. But today, my Aunty Rose, unprompted, actually confirmed a memory that I had, of having met him and talked to him in the front room of her house. I have this vague recollection, but no-one else could verify it. I'm glad it's real and not just something my head made up.

Aunty Rose's house is full to the rafters of all sorts. You can't sit in her front room. It's a struggle in the back room. She doesn't know where to start with tidying it up. It's not dirty. Just so many books, dolls, teddies, videos, and plates with Elvis's likeness on them. Shelves everywhere. It's a fantastically eccentric place to spend a couple of hours.

I also saw pictures of my Aunty Rose when she was younger - she had FANTASTIC legs. I think she blushed when I commented.

Lovely.

And we ate the apple pie, when we got home, with fresh custard, and we were all very content and full.

Thank you Nana for a wonderful afternoon. I'm sorry that I thought that chopping up the bread for the birdies was just a little bit strange. I'm also sorry that my son is apparently inept when it comes to throwing the bread onto the grass for the birds, and thus causing you to have to sweep it up whilst I cried laughing at him!