My Grandma Gladys


This is a photo of me and my grandma. She was an exceptional sock-monkey maker.

I loved feeling the soft skin below her upper arms. You could call them ‘bingo wings’ but she didn’t mind me squeezing them. I could spend many happy hours doing that.

Gladys had a collection of tightly-permed wigs that fascinated me but I wasn’t allowed wear them. She took a lot of small white tablets for a range of mysterious health complaints. She wore a mean brightly-patterned Mu-Mu. She was an old-school grandma. Born in the industrial freezing North. Not a cuddler, but you knew she loved you all the same.

She died when I was young. I am sorry I didn’t know you better Gladys. Here’s to you and your sock monkeys.

Lots of love


Dublin, Ireland