It was Barb Taub that started me thinking, with her collection of gems learned over the years. One in particular I recognised and yet, on the five occasions when I have been rushed to hospital in an ambulance, all sirens wailing and my life or limbs in the balance, I can honestly say that no-one has ever passed comment on the state of my underwear.
On one of these occasions, underwear was absent from the equation altogether because I was wearing nightclothes when disaster struck. On another, all garments had either melted with the heat or been hastily ripped off to prevent further burns. It would not have mattered a jot whether the pertinent articles had been pristine cotton, lacy confections or the over-washed grey of comfort. They had to go.
In fairness to Great Granny, who had impressed upon me the need for unimpeachable unmentionables, at no time was public transport responsible for my plight. It is therefore theoretically possible that the old adage still rings true and that, had I indeed been run over by a bus, I might have been subject to the sartorial criticism of which I had been warned.
Old habits, however, die hard. Things I learned at Great Granny’s knee still haunt me.
I cannot guarantee whether or not I have pulled faces when the wind was in the east, but the expression has remained fleeting and never ‘stuck’ as I was warned it would. But I still half expect it to remain fixed on my face forever.
Some of the things that we were taught were less debateable and more practical…and such things stay with us. It is only in recent years that I have dispensed with the net curtains which had to be kept perfectly white. Denture cleaning tablets were the thing for that and I had some odd looks when I was young buying the things at the chemist. These days, no would give it a second thought, I suppose. And, although I no longer scrub the doorstep, I still feel the need to keep it clean.
I can’t be comfortable if I haven’t made the bed… and my bedroom is always the tidiest room in the house. Not for any sensible reason, but in case the doctor has to make a house call. It matters little that I haven’t had a doctor make a house call in decades… or that doctors are under so much pressure these days from ever-expanding patient lists that any illness needs to be scheduled at least three weeks in advance before you can get an appointment. Doctors used to make house calls regularly… and the bedroom had to be kept tidy, just in case.
On the other hand, there are some odd little habits which have stuck and which still come in handy. Like cutting the first slice of a fruit loaf and using it as a ‘lid’ for the rest to keep it moist. Or cleaning tarnished brass with tin foil, hot water and washing soda… or ‘oiling’ squeaky hinges with candles. Buying warts to make them disappear or treating chilblains with a poultice of Bay Rhum and soapflakes.
It is not that any of Great Granny’s advice was bad… but while some of it has been useful, other bits were either based on a completely different premise than the one presented, or were very much of their time. Stopping a child from making faces in company was a polite necessity. Clean underwear, a matter of hygiene. Pristine nets and doorsteps could disguise a whole host of other problems. And doctors who made house calls generally walked straight in.
I wonder, though, how many other things were picked up unconsciously from a generation that was born when Queen Victoria still wore the crown?
It was Great Granny’s boast that she had seen six kings and queens of the realm come and go. She been a mill lass, working the looms who had been courted by a young man who had walked miles across the moors to meet her. She had lived though two World Wars and seen her husband and son serve in them. Heard the first radio broadcasts and seen colour television and video recorders come into homes. She had a lot of lived experience from which to teach.
The values of common decency and politeness were absorbed unwittingly. Thrift, the virtues of economy and the ‘make do and mend’ mindset, were part of what she taught. So were hope, persistence and a positive attitude. But I wonder what else was absorbed that would be better left behind?
“A woman’s place in the home”? “Children should be seen and not heard”? It is odd, but although I heard these phrases, it was always with laughter and I never saw them imposed. I learned no prejudice, only acceptance. No harshness, only kindness. No judgement, just compassion. And I learned the meaning of love.
When I started to write this, it was with the intention of showing how many hangovers we might carry from previous generations that are no longer relevant in today’s world. The more I thought about it though, the more I realised that perhaps the most valuable lessons were the ones that were learned but never taught. Like Great Granny, we all live and hopefully learn to make up our own minds and form our own opinions about how, or whether, what our elder’s world taught them might be relevant to ours. And, the more I looked, the deeper my gratitude grew that I was privileged to know these ‘people of the past’, whose own lifetimes are now the stuff of history.
As I watch my granddaughters with their own great grandparents, I can see them learning the same things I learned as a child, safe in a circle of love and continuity. I can feel that we are part of an ancient family, stretching back across untold ages, each one sharing such wisdom as they had learned with their children and grandchildren. And I hope that one day, my grandchildren’s children will smile as I do when they think of Great Granny.
Sue Vincent's Daily Echo 
Read with a wistful smile. You’re so right Sue and I’m mightily relieved to that the state of my underwear is not that important in a crisis. 😉
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For once, I am glad that Granny was wrong 😉
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Hum-m-m too early. I meant relieved to learn…
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So early I wouldn’t have noticed, Lynn 😉
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Reblogged this on anita dawes and jaye marie.
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Thanks for sharing, Jaye x
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Funnily enough, in the midst of my heart attack years ago, I did give my underwear a thought…
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Such is the effect these early lessons have on us 🙂
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“Unimpeachable unmentionables” gave me a chuckle!
A wonderful, nostalgic read. You’re quite right, the best lessons are learned and not taught. Thanks for the smiles this post raised.
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Thanks, Adam. Glad it raised a smile 🙂
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I’m sure they will.
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I hope so.
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Far, far more of the discipline recommended by great grannies would be of considerable benefit in the world of today. Also, the values of politeness and consideration.
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The odd thing is that I do not remember any discipline being imposed… just nurtured.
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A d I hope we never lose that gentle wisdom. It is still relevant and necessary.
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It always will be, I hope.
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I enjoyed this walk down memory lane with you, Sue. Many of these teachings I share with you as they came down to me form my mom who received them from her mom before her.
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That’s the way such things are passed on… and I wonder how many generations will repeat them 🙂
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Excellent post Sue it brought back many memories of my Mum’s sayings. EG. Never a borrower or a or a lender be. Blue and green should never be seen unless there is something in-between. Never leave dirty dishes in the sink over night. Never put Shoes, new or old on the table, Never walk under a ladder and millions more including all the ones you have mentioned….💜 All make perfect sense💜💜
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There is a lot of wisdom in the old sayings…
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That is certainly true 💜💜💜
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A beautiful reflection, Sue, and I love your conclusion. I remember being told that if I crossed my eyes too much, they’d get stuck, and if I swallowed apple seeds, a tree would grow in my stomach. 🙂 But as you noted, it was often the intangible learning that was the most profound and formed not only who I am but what I’ll pass on. I too hope to be a Granny who’s remembered fondly. ❤
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It’s odd, the things that stick with us as memories… but we don’t really notice too much what we simply absorb that becomes part of who we are. I wonder what we will pass on? xx
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Loved this, Sue. I wonder why it was always the fear of being run over by a bus? Would the state of our underwear not matter so much if it was a car? You might enjoy this poem I wrote a couple of months ago. I’m sure I could add more to it.
Wise beliefs of mothers
I smile sometimes at the things
my mother taught me.
Never go outside with wet hair or
you’ll catch your death of cold,
don’t wash your hair when
you have your period – pneumonia?
Infertility? I never knew
but trusted her word for years.
A brisk evening walk
in shorts and tee shirt
along the sea front,
(even in a howling gale)
would set the day’s suntan.
Squeeze spots on your forehead and
pus will go into your brain.
No matter how good the programme,
turn off the television
at the first hint of thunderstorm. Left on
it will attract the lightning.
Open a window, too, so if the
switched-off television trick
doesn’t work and lightning strikes
it can find its way out.
I smile now, though then I wouldn’t dare –
mothers know stuff, which is why
my son’s laughter more than rankles.
He refuses to accept my wise belief
if you use a mobile phone
while it’s on charge it will, quite probably,
explode.
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😀 Sons never believe anything their mothers tell them…
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Such a lovely post. Sue. Hardly a week goes by that I don’t recall one of Grandma’s pearls of wisdom and how I loved to listen to her stories of horses and carriages and snows so high you had to jump out of a bedroom window before you could shovel a path to open the front door. As you so keenly tell it, our Great Grannies taught us about love by example! Now it’s our turn to follow… ❤
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I remember a good deal about the world she painted for me… and am grateful to have known her for so long. She lived to be ninety-nine and my sons knew her too. ❤
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Great post, Sue. My grandmother lived through far more change than I can imagine. I often wonder what perspective my grandchildren will have when they’re my age.
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I just hope their world doesn’t show them the wrong kind of ‘too much’.
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Me, too!
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I’ve never washed the front steps, but Garry sweeps them (and cleans up anything the dogs might have left) every morning. As for underwear, Whenever I collapse, I’m almost always in nightwear. I’m not sure why. And never wearing shoes. I don’t think anyone warned me about shoes, though.
Mostly, my mother warned me to be able to earn my own money because “men aren’t dependable.”
She didn’t mention retirement. I wish someone had mentioned it. I could have used the advice.
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My mother never advised me to plan for that either. I suppose they came from a generation that was still, in theory at least, taken care of by husbands and family…
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Reblogged this on SOMETIMES and commented:
I decided to visit other blog-friends, and found this wonderful post on Sue Vincent’s site, Daily Echo. Sue is a pal from my own early blogging days. She tendered the invitation to share, so I am taking the opportunity to reblog this on my site.
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I was told the old underwear thing. My Mam in her later years, always cleaned before the cleaner came around or washed her hair before the hairdresser. Raw potato poultice for sciatica. Vinegar in the last rinse for shining hair. ugh….Tea leaves made into a paste with, something can’t remember, for black hair dye and chamomile paste for blond hair. xxx
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The hair stuff I got too…and I am afraid I’d be with you Mam on the cleaner and the hairdresser if I used either 😉 xxx
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xxx
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