Ruby was my maternal Grandmother’s name I knew her for just a few years before she died. An eccentric, superstitious quirky woman. I loved visiting her small cottage. She would allow me to dust the ornaments on the sideboard. The room was never used except as a walk through to the kitchen. And still had the blackout curtains hanging.
The door opened into the front room from the street, up two steps, that had to be whitened, another job for little me. I loved it and felt very grown up to be trusted with such jobs.
The ornaments had to be arranged facing away from doors and windows- to keep the good luck inside the house.
We would have tea and toasted muffins. Toasted on a long fork over the stove. Then she would read the tea leaves left in the bottom of the cup. Sometimes I would be dabbed with some tweed perfume behind my ears. It was quite magical, like stepping into a strange world left behind after the war.
She had a thing for hats, and would buy a new hat, bring it home, and then proceed to steam it over a kettle trim the edges with scissors and completely remodel it! Some of the stories recounted by my Mother of the time she still lived at home were delightful. I wish I had known her for longer but the brief time I spent with her has left me with many fond memories.
Here are a few ruby red images just for colour.
I’ll try to find a photo of my Grand mother too.