(Neat handwriting curtsey of my grandma)
Crosswords are darn good for the mind you know. Never has anything encouraged me to think about being depressed, hitting things and bemoaning in the space of five minutes (except maybe TOWIE of course!) In his day my granddaddy was an incredible crossword connoisseur and casting my mind back to my childhood I remember many an afternoon watching him and his thick rimmed spectacles hard at work. Occasionally I would offer my assistance and in that beautiful granddad way he always humoured me and my futile attempts to fill in the blanks.
Sadly my granddad has now passed on to bigger and better places but in the black and white challenge of a crossword he lives on. My grandma, his ultimate partner in crime and deciphering is pretty whiz herself and the other day in the sunshine we set about this monster.
Needless to say despite my advancing years my crossword skills remain as absent as ever.
One day gramps I'll be half as good as you were.
One day gramps I'll be half as good as you were.
And my wont that be grand.
