ramblings and things
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High Street Granny
High Street Granny Barker, diabetic and stout
Didn't have enough agility to get out and about
Except to her back way to bring cold water in
Pumped by hand from a deep clear spring.
For she had a lifelong hobby as most folk do
This spring water made wicked home brew;
Potato Whiskey, Beer, Marrow Rum, Wine
Most vegetables or fruit would do just fine.
I remember once a tasting to see if I liked
And on the way home falling off my bike.
As for maturing it didn't take too long
And by Jove it was very tasty and strong.
And then she would with difficulty and care
Carry each bottle up the steep attic stair
And there it languished for years in the roof
Growing in strength and growing in proof.
When she suddenly died it all went to waste;
Unlabelled bottles nobody dared to taste.
It took my uncles and aunts most of a day
To bring it all down stairs and pour it away.
Oh I can remember that wicked old grin
As we sat and drank a brew she called gin;
High street Granny Barker so long gone
But for me her memory lives on and on.
For me she was one of my very very last
Links with a family lifestyle long past
When life was simpler, possessions few,
And folk didn't complain, just made do.