grandad kit

Thank you for reading my blog. If you have difficulty seeing your grandchildren, or have any views about my situation, I would welcome your messages by e-mail through this blog site. If you wish, just use a first name or a nickname and your identity will be protected, like mine – “Grandad Kit.”

Dear “Tom”

The boxer

I am you other grandfather, the one you have never met. You are three years old, and although I have never met you, I love you dearly and always will. You are my flesh and blood, and always will be. We will meet one day, I am sure. I am writing this daily "blog" to you to make up for the fact that I can't speak to you right now. I hope that one day you will be able to read this.

Today I went to see a boxer, or rather a man who used to be a boxer. He was very good, in fact he was a world champion, the best in the world. I'm writing a book about him, so I need to spend a lot of time with him. I ask him questions and he answers, and I record everything on my tape recorder. Then m y secreatry types out everything he's said. The come the most difficult part. I have to makes ense of what he said and put everything in the right order. That's not so easy, especially with a man who talks "ninety to the dozen" or "talks the hind leg off a donkey" as people used to say. Anyway, it's a job and I enjoy it.

Tomorrow a man called Sebastian Coe is coing up to Tyneside. He's the man in charge of the 2012 Olympics in London. You'll be eleven years old by then, just the right age to really understand and enjoy the Olympic Games. I promise you i will take you to see the Olympics, no matter what. It's soemthing you'll remeber for the rest of your life. I've never been to the Olympic Games. I have been to the Commonwealth games and I've competed in the Veterans World Athletics championships, but there's nothing, absolutely nothing, like the Olympic Games. So it's a date, you and me in 2012!

Sadly, I won't be able to come and meet Lord Coe (he is a Lord, he used to be an MP but before that he was twice an Olympic champion) because I'm too busy, so I am very disappointed.

Love from

Grandad Kit and Nana Ann

Thank you for reading my blog. If you have difficulty seeing your grandchildren, or have any views about my situation, I would welcome your messages by e-mail through this blog site. If you wish, just use a first name or a nickname and your identity will be protected, like mine – “Grandad Kit.”

Dear “Tom”

Lots of fun

I am you other grandfather, the one you have never met. You are three years old, and although I have never met you, I love you dearly and always will. You are my flesh and blood, and always will be. We will meet one day, I am sure. I am writing this daily "blog" to you to make up for the fact that I can't speak to you right now. I hope that one day you will be able to read this.

I forgot to tell you the best thing about the Durham Big Meeting, I was so carried away tellin g you all the history (hope it wasn't too boring). The best thing is the fantastic fair that's all around the show field. This must have the biggest variety of stalls and rides and amusements anywhere. You'd have a great time. Also, I found out today, on the Sunday there was the "Gate of the Tyne" festival. That's another big occasion, just for fun this time. I'm sure there were all kinds of things happening, including soem fantastic acrobats who semed to be suspended in mid air! If you'd been up here this weekend, you would ahve had a great time, lots of fun, and you would have been completely tired out. You'd have slept like a log and your mam would have had to rouse you out of bed in the mroning.

The evening I had competed in the track league, three races. You know there are these two old gadgies (I mean blokes to you) in my age group who usually have the beating of me. Well, recently I've been getting closre to them. And in this particular race, the 800 metres (two laps of the track) when we came off the first bend I wasa well up and I thought "I'm going to beat them this time!" But as I pushed on to get a lead over them, I pulled a muscle in my leg. I still managed to do a fairly reasonable time, but these two still beat me. In another race, one of them didn't take part, so I was second. Still, plenty points for the club - we won the league last year, and now we're back on top of the table with one more meeting to go.

Today I went to the station to get train tickets for Nana Ann to go to Wales this weekend. I'll go down by car, and we'll meet up there. But this job is nearly finished, so we'll ahve to make the most of it while we can.

Love from

Grandad Kit and Nana Ann

Thank you for reading my blog. If you have difficulty seeing your grandchildren, or have any views about my situation, I would welcome your messages by e-mail through this blog site. If you wish, just use a first name or a nickname and your identity will be protected, like mine – “Grandad Kit.”

Dear “Tom”

The Big Meeting

I am you other grandfather, the one you have never met. You are three years old, and although I have never met you, I love you dearly and always will. You are my flesh and blood, and always will be. We will meet one day, I am sure. I am writing this daily "blog" to you to make up for the fact that I can't speak to you right now. I hope that one day you will be able to read this.

One thing I forgot to tell you about yesterday was "The Big Meeting." Now I know most meetings are very boring - and Grandad should know, I've been to thousands and thousands of meetings over the years, most of them boring to a greater or lesser extent - but this "Big Meeting" is soemthing completely different. It takes place at this time every year, in Durham City near where I live.

On this day every year thousands of men, women and children gather in Durham City. Most of them march through the twon with bands playing and banners flying, and the others come to watch. These are the miners and their families and a whole lot of other people. When I say miners I mean coal miners. Now a lot of children, even in the North East, have never seen a lump of coal and I'm sure you never have, living in London. Coal is black rock that burns. Not very many years ago, nearly every house in the country had to burn coal in the fire grate to keep the house warm, cook and make hot water. Now hardly anybody burns coal in their homes, which are mainly heated by electricity, gas and oil.

The fact is, one hundred to one hundred and fifty years ago, many people came to the North East to work in the coal mines, digging the coal from deep beneath the earth and even deep beneath the sea. I promise you I will take you to see a coal mine one day. We'll go underground and see how the men used to dig the coal, sometimes using picks and shovels, as well as coal-cutting machines. One of your great-grandfathers was a miner and he worked underground - a really tough, hard job and very dangerous. Grandad did go down a mine when he was training, but I didn't like the idea of working under the soil.

Although all the caol mines in County Durham have now closed down, the mineers, people who used to be miners and their families still gather together at the Durham Miners Gala, as it's also called. The reason is that when all those people came to Durham and Northumberland all those years ago, when the coal mines were just being started, they had to have somewhere to live. So the men who owned the coalmines built lots of little villages - and some quite big villages - for the miners and their families to live. Now, even though the pits (that's what they call coal mines) have closed down, the villages are all there. If it hadn't been for the coal, these villages wouldn't have been there atall.

That's enough history for a little lad in one day, but I'll tell you more about the pit villages and the people who live in them another day.

No phone call yet from your Mam. Nana Ann and I are away again this weekend, so we'll send you another postcard. Maybe then your Mam will ring. Tomorrow I've got another race on.

Love from

Grandad Kit and Nana Ann

Thank you for reading my blog. If you have difficulty seeing your grandchildren, or have any views about my situation, I would welcome your messages by e-mail through this blog site. If you wish, just use a first name or a nickname and your identity will be protected, like mine – “Grandad Kit.”

Dear “Tom”

Running in the rain

I am you other grandfather, the one you have never met. You are three years old, and although I have never met you, I love you dearly and always will. You are my flesh and blood, and always will be. We will meet one day, I am sure. I am writing this daily "blog" to you to make up for the fact that I can't speak to you right now. I hope that one day you will be able to read this.

Last night Grandad went for a run in the rain. I love doing that, the rain keeps me cool. Rain isn't so bad really. After all, I bet you love splashing in the puddles. If your Mam tells you off, just remember she did exactly the same when she was a little girl.

I must tell you about your Uncle Norman (who rang me today, by the way). When he was a boy, I took him camping with two fo his schoolmates. One day it was raining, and the boys said they didn't want to go out, they would stay in the tent and play games. Well, after a while they got bored, cold and miserable. After all, there was no haeting in the tent. So I made the three boys take off their tops and come out into the rain in their bare chests! We were all going for a run!

The three boys grumbled like anything. They didn't want to go for a run, especially in the rain, but I made then do it. At first they didn't like it, but very soon they realised that they couldn't get any more wet than wet. Then, as they warmed up, they got tothe stage where the rain was just bouncing off their bodies (and mine too). Soon they were laughing and joking. When we got back to the tent, we all dried off with our towels and put on dry clothes. We were all really warm. Then I made the boys some hot soup. After that, they were ready for anything! And the rain stopped and the sun came out, so we were able to enjoy the rest of the day outside.

Later the three boys used to go camping by themselves. They always seemed to have a good time. Maybe we'll take you camping one day. Therte's nothing like sleeping out in ther fresh air and under the stars!

Love from

Grandad Kit and Nana Ann

Thank you for reading my blog. If you have difficulty seeing your grandchildren, or have any views about my situation, I would welcome your messages by e-mail through this blog site. If you wish, just use a first name or a nickname and your identity will be protected, like mine – “Grandad Kit.”

Dear “Tom”

Friday the thirteenth

I am you other grandfather, the one you have never met. You are three years old, and although I have never met you, I love you dearly and always will. You are my flesh and blood, and always will be. We will meet one day, I am sure. I am writing this daily "blog" to you to make up for the fact that I can't speak to you right now. I hope that one day you will be able to read this.

Friday the thirteenth is supposed to be unlucky. Well, I don't really believe it, but just to be on the safe side I've stayed at home most of the day. In any case, the problem with spending a few days away doing research for my books, is that I have to write up all my notes and check all my photographs when I get back. If I don't do it staright away, I'm liable to forget what is what and that would never do.

Do you have supewrstitions? Nana Ann has lots. Whenever we see a magpie (cheeky black and white bird) we have to say "good moring (or good afternoon) Mr Magpie." If there are two magpies, we have to say "Mr and Mrs Magpie." And Grandad will not listen to the radio on number 13 sound level - it's always got to be 12 or 14. Daft, really, but there's no harm in it. In a way, it teaches you to be alert at all times.

No phone call from your mam yet - but I'll wait a few days before deciding what to do.

Love from

Grandad Kit and Nana Ann

Thank you for reading my blog. If you have difficulty seeing your grandchildren, or have any views about my situation, I would welcome your messages by e-mail through this blog site. If you wish, just use a first name or a nickname and your identity will be protected, like mine – “Grandad Kit.”

Dear “Tom”

Nana Ann does a silly thing (for once)

I am you other grandfather, the one you have never met. You are three years old, and although I have never met you, I love you dearly and always will. You are my flesh and blood, and always will be. We will meet one day, I am sure. I am writing this daily "blog" to you to make up for the fact that I can't speak to you right now. I hope that one day you will be able to read this.

If you'd been able to read my letters to you, or if I could talk to you like I want to, you would know that Nana Ann is a very wise woman and a very clever woman. She hardly ever makes mistakes, not like Grandad who's always doing silly things (like getting on the wrong train!) But Nana Ann has done a silly thing, a very rare occurance. And even more so because it's to do with gardening.

Now Nana Ann has what we call "green fingers." No, it doesn't mean that her fingers are green, it's just an expression to mean that a person is very good with plants and things you grow in the garden. Now I've told you that Nana Ann's front garden is looking really beautiful, with lots of lovely flowers. Well, it did look very beautiful until a few days ago. The, guess what? When Nana Ann came out of the house in the morning to go to work, she noticed to her horror that all her lovely plants and flowers were wilting. Within a few days, they were all dead, all grey and brown!

Grandad saw the garden last week, and I couldn't believe my eyes. At first we thought that soemthing had happened to the water in the ground, but the gardens on both sides were ok, so thatwasn't the reason. Then we thought that some nasty person had put salt or even poison onto Nana Ann's Garden. Now nana Ann is loved by everybody and had no enemeies whatsoever (unlike Grandad who's always getting into arguments) but some people are so daft in the head they could even hurt someone like Nana Ann who is nice to everybody. But who could it be?

Nana Ann was going to take a sample of the soil from her front garden and take it to a chemist who would analyse it for her and tell her if it had been poisoned or contaminated in any way. Then she realiused who had done it - it was Nana Ann herslef! (accidentally of course).

If Nana Ann has a fault, it's that she will not throw anything away, no matter how old or broke or uselessit is. "It's come in handy one day" she always says, but that means both our houses are absolutely full to the brim with all sorts of useless objects. Well, Nana Ann put some "plant food" onto her front garden a week or two back. Perhaps she put oo much on, bu the thing was this "plant food" was at least twenty yaers old, and it could have been thirty or even forty years old! Now we don't know what happens to cheicals when they are kept for a long, loing time, but even Grandad knows they can change into something else - even poison! So it was Nana Ann's fault all along!

But I don't think that will stop her hoarding yet more useless things!

Love from

Grandad Kit and Nana Ann

Thank you for reading my blog. If you have difficulty seeing your grandchildren, or have any views about my situation, I would welcome your messages by e-mail through this blog site. If you wish, just use a first name or a nickname and your identity will be protected, like mine – “Grandad Kit.”

Dear “Tom”

The train didn't stop!

I am you other grandfather, the one you have never met. You are three years old, and although I have never met you, I love you dearly and always will. You are my flesh and blood, and always will be. We will meet one day, I am sure. I am writing this daily "blog" to you to make up for the fact that I can't speak to you right now. I hope that one day you will be able to read this.

Grandad finally got home today after a long, long journey. First I had to go to this meeting, then I had to take the car that i hired back to its garage in London. Then I went to Kings Cross station to catch a train back up North where I live. Unfortunately, silly Grandad didn't check that it was the right train. It was going to my station, but when it got there, it didn't stop! It went right on to the next big station, where I had to get off and explain to the guard what had happened. He might have made me pay for another ticket to get on this other train and go back down the line to my own station, but he took pity on me and let me travel on this train withoutpaying for another ticket. So it was late when I finally got home. Never mind!

I wonder if you are still on holiday with your Mam. I guess your Dad has gone back to work. I'm hoping your Mam will ring me this weekend, but we'll have to see.

LOve from

Grandad Kit and Nana Ann