Nan and Pop

Beryl WALSH

Lindsay George Arnold GOOD

I only ever knew one set of grandparents.  Dad's parents had died long before I was born - Grandpa (John Loring SULLIVAN) in 1934 in the Coramba Disaster and Grandma (Christina Ruby JONES) in 1947.  I am just guessing that I would have called them Grandma and Grandpa.  Mum's parents were my Nan (Beryl WALSH) and Pop (Lindsay George Arnold GOOD).  Nan lived until she was 93, and was a great grandmother to my daughter.  Pop died in 1965 when I was 12.  I therefore have lots of memories about Nan, but only a few about Pop.
Nan always looked the same, until the day she died.  A lovely homely, silver-haired lady.  She played the piano, which I always thought was special.  And what's more, she had a piano in her house and as children we were allowed (sometimes) to tinker on it. I learned to play Chopsticks and Good King Wenceslas on that piano.  Nan also had some purple carnival glass dishes in which she served jelly and icecream.  At her funeral I asked a younger cousin what she thought of when she thought of carnival glass dishes.  Her response - jelly and icecream.  The best thing about the icecream was that it was homemade - always tasted ever so much better than most bought icecream at the time.
Nan always wore a pinny, or apron, while she was cooking or doing the housework.  She also had her own special stool in the kitchen to sit on while she was peeling vegetables etc.  I think Mum still has that stool somewhere.
Pop - what can I say about him?  As an adult I now feel that I never got to know Pop as well as I would have liked.  I do know I adored him.  When I think of Pop, which I do often, I see him sitting in one of two places - in a chair right opposite the door into the kitchen, or in his shed talking to Mr. Waterhouse who lived next door.  Pop's shed was a mysterious place, full of gardening implements and paraphanalia and relics from the war.  Pop was an avid vegie gardener.  The house was on a large block and a good deal of it was given over to his vegie garden.  I think he grew flowers like dahlias and gladiolis there too.  The front garden was more Nan's domain.
I always feel that if I had got to know Pop better as I grew older he and I would have had a special connection.  But Pop didn't seem to interact with us much when we were children.  I remember one day when I was writing in my Memory Book (I wonder whatever happened to that book - I obviously didn't keep it) at the kitchen table and Nan told me that Pop would be very pleased to see how much trouble I was taking over my lettering and handwriting.  I can't remember whether Pop was still alive at the time, but I do know that he had the most beautiful copperplate handwriting, and I was so pleased that Nan thought Pop would be pleased.

Surrey Hills Railway Station

Pop worked for the Corps of Commissionaires when I was little.  I think he was a security guard at J.B. Were - a firm of stockbrokers.  He would walk to the Surrey Hills station every day and catch the train into the city.  I remember his lunch box - it was a black tin with two scottie dogs on the lid.  Whenever I see old tins for sale I look to see if I can find one like it.
Pop had some unusual habits.  One I particularly remember was his 'breakfast'.  It consisted of a raw egg in a glass, which he drank!  Yuck!

This is how I remember Pop - this photo was taken in later years.  And this is Nan dressed up as Miss Po-land when she was living in the retirement village in Sale.