As my old granny used to say - that's the one with a penchant for property investment and not the one with a penchant for brandy - no matter what you do, no matter what job you aspire to, stand up, hold your back straight and your head high and look the world right in the eye.
That's the granny who was famous (in the family) for building three houses during the Great Depression and who died leaving a huge estate, without, seemingly, ever having worked a day in her life. That's not entirely true, she did own her own millinery business, in Glenhuntly Road, way back when. When we were cleaning out her wardrobe, we realised that she didn't have a dress made after the fifties, most probably, although it was hard to tell, once they were lying there lifeless without her to fill them out. She saved every penny.
Of course, the devil (lawyers) swindled the money away before it ever got to me. I'd so love to name the law firm! My drunkard uncle, husband of my mother's dead, younger sister, made a pact with the devil to get what he now calls his own. For it all to come out even in the end, when he meets his end, I should inherit. Who knows how? Dare I say miracle. All I've got left is karma. There's sharks every where else. I've learned, it's only your direct, immediate family who give you an island from all of that.
Gran died twenty years ago, this year. It's one of the draw backs of having children late in life, as my mother and my grandmother did, as my brother did, the grandchildren only get the grand parents for a relatively short time. Their tribe diminishes early. I loved her. Adored her. Her blue eyes would sparkle whenever she was being naughty. We were partners in crime, so often.
She told me about geography (her favourite subject) and the world (her favourite places there in).
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