Most women at some point seem to have that “oh no, I’m turning into my mother moment!” I, however, am having a “holy shamoly, I’m turning into my granny moment!” Yes, I am skipping a generation and going for granny gold.
I used to love making cocktails and decadent puddings, now I make jam and feckin chutney….you see I am my granny.
I used to love drinking a nice gin and tonic, now I get a buzz out of making and bottling Sloe Gin for others, nothing wrong with that, except my granny made Sloe Gin!
I used to love reading Cosmopolitan and Vogue. Now, well now, I own a copy of Mrs Beetons Jams, pickles and preserves and I love looking for a new pickle recipe to try…….you see I definitely am my granny!
I used to love buying new shoes and bags. Now, oh dear lord, now I have a penchant for Jars! Not just any jars mind you, Kilner and Mason jars, the Ferrari and Lambourgine of the jar world in my opinion. I have developed a need to just keep buying jars. If anything sits still long enough in my house, it now runs a risk of being jarred.
I have a Kilner Jar for almost any occasion. What started as a nice jar to use for my Christmas Chutney gifts, has developed into a dread at the thought of giving one away. I now don’t want to part with them and to my great shame, bought different Volvo type jars to use as the gift jars instead of giving away my supercar models!
I think the evidence is pretty damning, I am my grandmother. What makes that even worse is that I never knew one grandmother, she died when I was tiny and the other one, well I didn’t like her very much and don’t have any fond memories of her, so this may not bode well.
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