My nan was a tough old broad. Doris Maude.
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Born sometime not long after the turn of the century, she raised a handful of kids; she'd already lost a couple as babies and then later buried one way too early. She always worked, as much as I can remember, as a matron at the local mental hospital and she'd regale us with tales. And, occasionally, she'd introduce us to women she'd bring home to live with her.
Aunty Betty was never an aunty, and she was a little batty, but she found a family in my grandmother's house. Indeed nan had pretty much an open-door policy. The handsome young Mormon boys who would troll the streets were always there after school when my sister and I dropped in. Not that we minded too much – they always were so handsome – but sometimes they had this look on their faces like they were worried they'd never escape.
She could cook up a feast and would berate her grandchildren when they refused to keep eating. Her kitchen was always a place of mystery, and so was her bedroom – a high-mattressed bed with heavy covers. When we'd sleep over she'd tuck us in as tight as can be. Her room smelled of powders and potions.
It's funny how close to 50 of your own years can blur memories, can cloud what you can and can't remember. I remember these things about her but I can't remember if she used to cuddle me and read me stories when I was little, nor brush my hair, nor play with me.
I also remember three things she said to me over the course of my life. One very early on, I must have been about six or seven (maybe it was even before I went to school but I doubt if I can remember that far back). The other two pearls of wisdom came when I was a young adult. Some words of advice from one woman to the other.
So, in memory of dear Doris Maude, here are the three things she told me and why I've been thinking about them this week.
Don't get your meat where you get your bread
Perhaps yes, if pillow talk is making policy. But definitely not because grown adults can make decisions for themselves, even if there's some moral debate about what is right and wrong. People can sleep with whomever they choose. Sometimes that hurts other people.
I'm not condoning infidelity and adultery, far from it. I'm a frumpy, middle-aged prude. People can be right bastards sometimes and not treat the people they love with any respect. But if you choose to do it, don't get your meat where you get your bread, thanks nan. That's just asking for trouble.
And now research shows that when an office affair does happen it's the woman's career and reputation that suffers. A question of power and gender. More often than not, the less powerful person is the woman. Is it worth risking your career for your boss? It's rarely love. Sometimes it's lust. Sometimes it's just the fact that, for 10 hours a day, this person seems more interesting than your own partner who you might see for three.
So wherever it is you're thinking about shopping for your meat – and it could be the butchers – just don't make it the bakery. Pay attention to my nan.
Stick to them like shit to a blanket
My nan met a few people in my life and had this to say about them. Good, kind people she could see something in, something that I needed. I try to imagine the origins of this saying: I'm sure it's a hospital thing. Having tried to clean some cot blankets in my day, I can attest to the adherence qualities of bodily expulsions.
So occasionally I look at my friends, even now, and think, "Yep, they are the ones I need to stick to." Even if the blanket is worn and smelly and probably quite ready to bin, I want to stick to these people through good times and bad because that's when it's easiest to become unstuck, to forget what it was that bound you together in the first place. Pay attention to my nan.
You're an independent little bitch, just like your mother
This is the one thing nan told me early on. From what I can recall of the situation, we were out on her back verandah, she was busy probably doing the washing on the board in the big bucket. It was hot, I'm sure, I had a little bonds singlet on and my undies, not much more. I was too busy trying to catch newts or something. Or maybe I was eating one of her scones. She asked me to do something and I said "No". I don't really know much about my own mother's relationship with her mother-in-law.
My mother was an independent woman of her time. She had to be, Orphan of the Empire that she was. She had no family to fall back on until she met my father. And through all this time she did extremely well, thank you very much. Mum worked and ran the house without complaint nor criticism. And while she might say she did an average job, she did not.
Somedays when I remember my nan saying this I believed it to be an insult. But today, I'm taking it as a compliment. Yes my mother was, yes I was, yes I am. An independent woman who is capable and kind. I am paying attention, nan.