mostly david ephgrave

There's a stretch of raised kerb on a bend near where I live that makes me think of my nan (because nothing makes me reminisce about dead relatives more than roadside brickwork). Seeing it ignites a childhood memory of her watching me balance on it like a tightrope walker whenever we went to the post office. It wasn't exactly the best way to traverse a busy road, though health and safety was a different beast in the 1980s. But I know she kept an eye on me. She was the prototypical nan whose warm presence I can still feel even though she died in 1987. And I have a surprising amount of memories involving her when you consider they all happened before I was six. She would babysit me when my parents went to White Hart Lane to watch Spurs, which often involved a trip to the local shop. We took that short walk frequently.  We'd sometimes visit the nearby playground on the way back, where there was a climbing frame shaped like a spider that's still in action to this day. And w