Hello Granny. It's me - don't get up. Oh, you can't. Your dead.
I'm just writing to say that I found this stuff today which you would have loved. It's called hair chalk. You can get it in blue or pink, and you rub it on the ends of you hair to make it change colour. It looks really pretty, and washes out easily.
I bought pink. I imagined having fun with it, with you. Highlighting the ends of your short grey hair with its shocking hotness. You would have accessorised it with large pink beads - plastic probably -
We'd probably have discussed earrings, too. You'd have found some dangly ones that made your ears weep a bit - but you'd have worn them because they looked fabulous.
You were a farmer's daughter but you had a sense of style and colour that was natural and warm and vivid at times. You regularly teamed knee length skirts with opaque tights of vibrant colours. You showed me some furs once that were stashed away in your wardrobe; I recoiled at the sight, but they had been your mother's and were treasures to you.
It makes me sad that we can't chalk up of a morning, go about our daily routines, and then share our Chalk Stories come the evening. I bet you'd have better stories than me. About how the church organist had reacted with horror to your pink tips. Or maybe you would have been banned from collecting for Christian Aid. Or maybe the chalk would have run off in the rain on your way to Aldi, making an interesting snake pattern on your polo necked jumper.
Good night, Granny. I miss you.
This blog post was inspired by a wonderful blog written by the very talented (and much younger than me) Rachelle Bell! Please visit the fabulous www.inspiredbytheretired.blogspot.com.