Today I found three books belonging to Grandma Not (only 3 I hear you splutter) and introduced the next generation to ‘Romany’. ‘Out With Romany’, ‘Out with Romany Again’ and ‘Out with Romany by Moor and Dale’, were part of Grandma Not’s branch arm of the British Library!
It all came flooding back to me. I remember my Mum used to read to me from ‘Romany and Raq’ when I was little.
Romany’s real name was The Rev George Bramwell Evens. He was the son of a true Romany mother and he became Children’s Hour sort of wildlife correspondent in the 30s and 40s. My Mum had loved listening to him and probably gleaned a smattering of her endless knowledge of wildlife and the hedgerows from sitting listening to him on their crackly old radio in Hinksay Road.
When I was a little girl on trips to visit my family in Cheshire, Mum and my Auntie used to take me to see his Vado (a lovely old green gypsy caravan parked in the middle of Wilmslow). I can vividly recall peering through the window imagining all the adventures I could have, if only it was mine. Secretly all I really wanted was his spaniel Raq, who by then must have been long gone!
Apparently you don’t have to peer through the window any more as the Vado is open every now and then for viewing. That probably takes away some of the mystique!
Well it was lunchtime!
in fact I tend to adopt books just so that I am sure that they will go to a loving home 
but I do try to exercise discretion! Grandma Not, however, owns every diet book (and ironically cookery book!), gardening book, sewing book, travel guide (etc, etc!) ever written. Yesterday we formed a human chain of all the children and started the migration of the books from the attic room down to the garage. Ok, so a few found themselves into a little pink plastic box for me but not very many. Honest 
