Days Like Those: Jacob, James and the BSG

February 2018… Mrs Treaclechops and I took grandchildren Jacob (aged four) and James (aged three) for a walk in Warley Woods Park, one cold but sunny afternoon. It covers an area of about 100 acres, and is a mix of mature woodland, open meadow and well-maintained parkland, three miles west of Birmingham city centre.

 The boys were wary because there were rumours of a ferocious Gruffalo at large, and they had to run and hide behind trees and bushes with Nanny Treaclechops whenever they heard a growling noise. I must admit they showed great courage in the face of the danger, and it was fairly obvious they would have defended their Nanny with every fibre of their being. Unfortunately, they couldn’t find a friendly mouse who may have been able to help them, and it was lucky they never actually saw the horrible creature.

 Being the very model of a nurturing grandfather, I imparted some old-fogey knowledge whenever the monster went quiet, and didn’t appear to be menacing them. I warned about the dangers of the prickly leaves on holly bushes, then pointed out the green daffodil spears that would soon bear flowers that looked like yellow trumpets, and told them to never touch the red bins in the parks and urban woods because they’re full of smelly dog poo.

At one point, we came to a small clearing among some towering pines, and stopped for an impromptu performance of the okey-cokey. The boys quickly picked up the rhythm and timing of it all, and their synchronised ‘put your left leg out’ movement may well have won a gold medal at the okey-cokey Olympics. It became apparent that Jacob had previously attempted the ritual, and he quickly became almost word perfect, though little James struggled with the lyrics. He kept getting mixed up with his okey-cokey and his rah-rah-rah, and his version sounded like ‘oh, the okey-rokey-rah-rah’. However, we considered this to be close enough, and both Nanny and I gave them an appreciative clap for their sterling efforts.

When we got back home, I read the story of the gingerbread boy to them while Nanny Treaclechops made hot chocolate and jam sandwiches. James was sad when the fox ate the gingerbread boy, but Jacob thought it was hilarious. It’s amazing the difference that a year of life can make.

As it transpired, the rumour concerning a menacing Gruffalo proved to be unfounded. It was just a BSG… BIG SCARY GRANDDAD!

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looking for summer…

two children gazing

through patio windows