My grandmother (mother’s mother) wore an apron, she had a lot of aprons. She never wore trousers but I don’t know if she wore dresses or skirts, I just don’t remember.
Almost the same kitchen too!
I do remember the aprons though. Full-length, from chest to knee, the aprons tied at the back, a large pocket right across the front held everything she'd need - forever!
I don’t know whether she had them made or if she bought them, I just remember the flowery, colourful aprons that kept her clothes clean as she baked bread, peeled vegetables, rolled pastry, washed her brother-in-law’s oven gloves… you name it, she did everything whilst wearing that apron.
The belt was loose and tied like this.
My older cousins (brother and sister) sometimes deigned to play with me. I was the younger kid-cousin and I can’t blame them for not wanting to bother with me – I had nothing of value to bring to the table. They’d been there, done that, seen it all and I was just starting to…
I looked up to my cousins. My eldest cousin was awesome, I remember. She was tougher than any boy I knew (still is) and I admired her and wanted to tag along everywhere.
Same with her brother. He was handsome and clever and he just would NOT let me tag along.
So the day they were playing upstairs and allowed me to join in was awesome!
We weren’t allowed in our grandparents’ bedroom so they were playing in the next-largest bedroom. It had an old wooden double-bed. On the bed were a few pieces of clean washing.
My cousins were both at ‘big school’ and they wore a uniform with a tie.
I asked how to tie a tie and they showed me, using the belt from one of our grandmother’s aprons.
Around half an inch wide, doubled-over fabric, the cloth belt was nothing like a tie, not even the skinny ties the Mods wore. But still, it would do in a pinch.
They taught me how to fold the fabric over in front of myself. I watched carefully because I knew I’d have to do it after they deemed they’d given me long enough to learn.
I had a go and eventually I got it right. Rather than being a conventional knot – like you’d put in rope – I managed to knot the apron belt like a proper tie. The knot would slide up just like it should! Success!
I used to have a thing about things fitting snug and tight… to be fair, I still don’t like things not fitting properly – a door with a gap, etc.
The ‘tie’ wasn’t quite snug enough. I pushed the knot up.
Still not snug…
I pushed it up and pulled the other end to make it really tight…
That was where everything started to go wrong.
My cousins didn’t realise anything was wrong to start with. Then they realised and tried to get the belt loosened. They couldn’t do anything. I’d tightened it way too much. If anything, their efforts probably tightened it even more.
I remember walking down the stairs to find our grandmother. I held my head up high because that was the only way I could get any oxygen at all – and that was precious little.
It took an absolute age to get down those stairs and the blood pounding in my ears – and eyeballs – was deafening. My face felt hot and it was impossible to swallow past the belt/tie.
The look on my grandmother’s face when I wandered into the parlour was pure horror. She rushed over to me and she tried to loosen the belt/tie knot.
Eventually, she took a pair of scissors. She asked what had happened.
“I was tying a tie and it got too tight,” I said.
My cousins didn’t half cop for it because she knew I’d never managed to teach myself how to tie that tie. I had to learn it from somewhere and the usual suspects THAT day were my cousins.
Oh don’t worry… my uncle got re-married and the cousins lived with him. Same village, but they weren’t always at my grandparents’ and so the ‘Usual Suspect’ tag went straight onto my shoulders.
The cousins got into a lot of trouble that day.
I nearly died.
They shouldn’t have been in the bedroom.
I shouldn’t have been taught how to tie a tie yet.
Grandmother’s apron belt was RUINED!
I’m still good with knots…
At our grandparents’ house, there were drawers filled with knick-nacks and all sorts of useful items and my grandmother always knew where a thing was.
I liked rummaging through the cupboards and drawers and I always asked what a thing was. I’d take it out, hold it up and ask, “What’s this, Grandma?”
She never told me what anything was. Sometimes, Grandad would answer, but he made stuff up (I think).
“Sugar tablets, here, taste one!”
Have you ever tasted saccharine? It has a horrible after-taste.
“Horse liniment.”
“Here, taste it!”
Nice one, grandad… not really!
“Sweeties, here, taste one…”
I quickly learned to NOT taste anything my grandad offered. It just wasn’t worth it.
That one time I found saccharine tablets in the drawer at our house and allowed my little sister to try it, though!
I got no end of shit for that!
“You don’t know what those tablets are!”
It was the same tablet grandad gave me…
What are you thinking, giving one to your sister?
I was thinking it was the same trick played on me, by an adult and he thought it was funny!
You don’t know what it could have been!
True, but I knew it tasted horrible and I wanted to see her face…
It could have been poison!
Of course… because you keep poison loose in a drawer…
Images from Google