Nanna's Jeans

As I previously mentioned, my grandmother from Jarrow (who was affectionately known by everyone as ‘Nanna Jean’- or ‘Nanna’s Jeans’ to one of the toddlers who didn't quite understand that Jean was her name not her clothing) was one of the most amazing people I ever met. Though she has been gone for several years, she left us with so many great memories.

What do I remember most about my Nanna’s Jeans?  Nothing!!  I never had the privilege of seeing her in a pair of jeans, but my Nanna Jean was one of the most selfless people I ever met (my mum is a chip off the old block which I will get to share with you in another blog).

I remember as kids, my brothers and I would get excited as we asked her to tell us about ‘The Good Old Days’.  She was never too busy to tell us. 

Her real name was Jenny Sparrow (from Jarrow) and the kids at school called her 'Sparrow legs'.  But the 'Sparrow' is a whole other blog!!  Suffice to say that when she left home at 15 to work in Manchester, she left Jenny behind and made a new start as Jean.

She told us about how poor they were when her father worked down the pits and would go down to the pub on Fridays to spend every penny he earned.  She told how her mother would buy a half penneth of bones to make stew and would open her door to share it with all the kids and young people in the neighbourhood.     

She told us about little Tommy putting the cat’s tail through the old mangle shouting “Hush pussy, you’ll soon be through!!”, and about the two Londoners who went to place a bet on a horse “Ideentna” (Geordie for “I don’t know”) which they’d heard was the favorite.   She had a great sense of humour and such an excellent story teller that we didn’t know what was truth or fiction, and we didn’t care!!

She told us about the sad times, like when her sister died in her father’s arms as he ran to the hospital after a pan of stew poured over her head.  How she too was scolded on the head and lived forever in fear of going to the hairdressers as they would see the bald patch that was her constant reminder of the not so ‘good old days’.  How her husband left her with my mum (a teenager) and my auntie Hazel who was just two years old. 

Nanna Jean lived to help others.  After she re-married she got a job as a cook in a borstal (home for juvenile offenders).  The detainees loved her and went to her in stead of the social workers when they wanted advice.

When I was a teenager I shared a bedroom with Nanna Jean for a year or two (which I loved because I got to hear more about the good old days) because she gave her house to a young homeless family.

It was only later in life that I learned that my grandma and granddad Hailes had not accepted dad’s marriage to mum.  They looked down on her because she was from a divorced family (which wasn’t acceptable practice in the fifties).  But when Grandma and Granddad Hailes were sick and needed help, it was Nanna Jean who gave up everything and went to be a live with them and care for them.  She bathed them, clothed them, took them to the toilet, cooked for them, washed their clothes, ironed and gave their medication until the day they died.  Needless to say they grew to love my Nanna Jean (as did everyone who knew her). 

That is the story of my Nanna Jean.

I'm related to Princess Diana!!!

Hi, I'm Chrissy and I was snobby Brit who ended up living in the Philippines.
I grew up in a middle class home (or 'upper middle class' as my mum would say) in Cheshire, England.

According to my parents, (which embarrasses my father somewhat each time mum mentions it- So please forgive me dad, for including this in my blog), we are related to Winston Spencer Churchel and Princess Diana (Spencer).  (My son keeps telling me how much I look like Diana, which I wish were true, but really, being surrounded by Filipino brown faces, flat noses and black hair, just being white makes me resemble Princess Di to most.  I assure you, being white and female is where the resemblance ends!! I'm sure you agree?). 

Anyway, my father's grandmother was a 'Spencer' who was cut off from the family as a result of her love and devotion for a commoner.  She married the commoner (an inventor I'm told) and my grandmother was born to them.  When my grandmother was around two years old, her father died.  The family did make an attempt to help my great grandmother, and offered her a small house.  She apparently turned it down, insulted when she found it contained no piano!!!
According to what I'm told, she earned her living playing the piano for the silent movies in the theatre where my grandmother (and Julie Andrews) spent her childhood.

And here ends my claim to fame.

My grandmother married Sydney Hailes, who was a plumber for a small company and earned a good living.   My father went on to become the managing director of that company where he worked for more than 40 years.
On the other side of the spectrum, my mother's family came from Jarrow, which is known in British history as being the most impoverished mining community of the UK of that time.  My grandmother (one of the most wonderful people I ever had the privilege of knowing) left home at 16 and moved to Cheshire to serve as a cook in what was called 'being in the service' at that time (which was the politically correct term for 'servants' in that day!!).  
She used to cook and clean houses in the posh part of Bowdon, never dreaming that one day her daughter would own a home there.


Mum and dad were high school sweethearts and went on to have my two brothers, Steve and Paul and me.  Imagine, this snob from Cheshire ended up here in the Philippines!!!