Sometimes all I need for homesickness is a 20 minute phone conversation with Grandparents.
Here are the highlights:
My Grandad mistook my phone message for one of his bowling friends despite my saying 'Love you' at the end of the message.
My Nanna told me all about my Grandad's latest baking experiment, that she had bemoaned on our last trip home: beetroot chocolate cakes which she begrudgingly admitted tasted beautiful.
I feel so lucky having these amazing Grandparents, they (I'm sure my mum would agree) have been my second parent figure in my life as I've grown up. They have always been the people I would play off against my Mum where some people would do it with their parents, they've been the owners of the house I've threatened to run away to as a moody teenager and they housed me over this summer when I found out Sam and I would be moving across the country and I had to hand my notice in on my flat.
When i'm feeling down or just missing the familiarities of home I always know I can ring them and the most mundane of conversations about their friends new home adaptations of what we're respectively eating for dinner will pick me back up again. They're the holders of wisdom, the feeders (Ringtons ginger biscuits) in my life and the people I've probably cried in front of the most, after my Mum.
I just felt the need to show some appreciation for them as I was on the phone to my Nanna yesterday evening asking for favours even though she's 200 miles away and chatting about tennis even though I've never sat through a match in my life. I don't know where i'd be without them.
And for my Nanna because I'm sure she reads here, this is a more grown up version (I hope) of the poem I wrote you when I was about 6 that I know you have kept. Yes you're still 'as clever as a typewriter.'