I have a much shorter offering for people today – this one was inspired by a game I loved as a child, but that’s all I’ll say on the matter since I need readers to work out what they think is going on in this one.
People assume my grandmamma merely dislikes a single beverage; however, life is more complex.
She drinks coffee and cocoa; her fridge is full of apple juice and orange juice; she’ll have milk. She dines on fish or beef or lamb or chicken, accompanied by mash or chips, and enjoys cabbage, cauliflower, broccoli and beans. Aubergines are okay, as is zucchini. Apples, pears, bananas and oranges are fine (save smaller kinds of oranges). Cake and cookies will be consumed.
Her bed is adorned by pillows and an eiderdown. She has a radio and will no longer view moving images upon a screen, using her DVD player – she refuses compromise. She gardens or walks or plays cards – always Bridge or Rummy and never banned versions of favoured games.
Each morning, she showers, ignoring a jacuzzi large enough for lying in. She cleans her false molars carefully, using fluoride, of course on her real ones. Her face is scrubbed clean and fresh make-up applied: rouge, lip gloss, mascara and powder: a woman, even one of her age, should always look well-groomed. Her long, grey hair is piled in a bun and clipped precisely. One’s calibre should be preserved.
She owns a small dog, possibly from Yorkshire, and revels in said dog’s company. When she and her canine companion go for walks, she will find small sprigs for her dog and allow a game of chase and bring back, or she may lob a ball and regard her friend scampering for said sphere.
My childhood memories are full of home-made cakes and wonderful yarns, her words bringing me under a spell as she described Cinderella and her fairy godmamma, pumpkin and mice. Grabbing my middle, she would whirl me round and around, singing of love and romance, so images of happy endings danced in my brain.
I remember how she was – before her unusual preference became a piece of everyday life – and I weep for my missing grandmamma and her joy in every single experience, regarding her now as she diminishes herself and refuses change. One single cipher is all she needs for regaining her old life and such prior freedom she once knew; however, she can never embrace such a symbol again for she has declared her preference and will never allow any of her forbidden words on her lips, in her house or in her life.
Can you devise from all my rambling my grandmamma’s preferences?
(Clue: Which symbol does she dislike?)