This morning we woke to Tiny tantying in bed. So the Doctor and I hot-footed it out of the house as quickly as we could, plucking some rosemary on the way, and headed down to our local ANZAC Day service.
The above photos of are of my grandfather, Gramps.
I don't remember Gramps talking an awful lot about war. He fought in Papua New Guinea. I do remember seeing that thick almost scratchy wool uniform though.
The top photograph is Gramps with my grandmother. A couple ever-devoted to one another, and I must say, theirs is a pure and undying love.
Gramps once stitched up a large cut (on his hand Mum?) with fishing wire.
Gramps had such a sweet tooth. He always brought us jelly rats when they came to visit, and their car always had sweeties strewn through it!
He made a fantastic baked cheesecake.
He would always pull his socks up and wear sock garters, much to my mortification as a teenager.
When we were little he'd let us drive the car through the paddock. I was the smallest, so I sat on his knee and steered while he worked the pedals.
Gramps loved Days of Our Lives. Turned up really rather loud.
He would always do all of the washing up.
Lest we forget.