I am the only grand daughter to my maternal Nanna and Grandpa, and it's because of this, I used to spend weekends with them in their small 'two up two down' mid terrace house.
It was here that I learnt how to knit, make Christmas mincemeat and Wet Knella.
It was here that I was shown true generosity.
It was in this house I first heard this beautiful love story.
I would sleep in my mothers old bed room across the landing to my grandparents room.
My grandpa would rise early every morning to do what grandpas did, when I would seize the opportunity to slip in under the eiderdown next to my Nanna, and wait.
It was never long before Grandpa would come back upstairs with a cup of tea, and a slice of Hovis brown bread, buttered and smothered in Roses lime marmalade, cut into squares, on a small green plate.
This is one of my oldest and fondest memories of the devoted love of my grandparents.
My Nanna would let me share in a slice, and we would natter.
It was at the village church that she met Grandpa, who sat in the pew behind her to pull her pigtails, and when they were courting, he wooed her with a ribbon for her hair.
A 'crushed' raspberry coloured ribbon.
She was very particular about that detail.
She didn't stand a chance!
My Grandpa spent his 'idle' hours in the garden, where he grew roses.
Every colour.
Every scent.
A garden full of blooms.
Some he cut for the house, a display of his love for my Nanna.
I was going to knit a Love Story.
Something I knew my Nanna would have adored and used everyday, something that evoked the cherished love between my Grandparents, and so the 'Love Story' collection of hangers and hot water bottle covers was designed.
A collection of lacy stitches, frothy picot edging, and an abundance of dusky pink damask roses.
The collection can be found in my Folksy shop
https://folksy.com/shops/thistledownandHOPE
