My Nan was a lovely old thing, who didn't have a nasty bone in her body. She was also as daft as a brush, and I like to think that as the years advance, I might in some way be taking after her.
I used, as a child, to keep her on her toes by dotting her Shredded Wheat with plastic flies, writing 'Nan' in lighter fuel on the formica of the kitchen table, and setting light to it as she came in. My mother took a dim view, on the whole.
I also made a replica of her false teeth from black plasticine, which could be slipped into her bedside glass during her afternoon nap to great effect.
No discernable musical talent, though.
palp
