Wearing the green

Yes, I do, in honour of my maternal great-grandfather. He came from Ireland and his surname was Proudfoot-Cooke. And that's pretty much all I know about his background.
My mother, aunts and uncle always referred to him as Granpa Cooke, as did my grandmother, his daughter. She was one of seven children and her mother died young. Soon after Grandpa Cooke married a young Afrikaans girl, so there was this mixture of Catholicism and Calvinism in my gran's growing up. She was very strict about Sundays. Sewing was the way she earned money for herself, but she'd never do any on a Sunday, saying that was like 'sticking a needle in the Lord's eye'! On the other hand, when she was thankful or relieved about something, she'd exclaim, 'Thank the Pope!!!'

She used to attend the Methodist church fairly regularly and would work all year towards the annual fete, confectioning the most delicate and beautiful dresses for babies and little girls. My brother was particularly attached to her when he was small (I already told you she lived with us during my primary school years?). He used to go to her in the mornings when she'd be reading her bible, which she did over and over again, starting at Genesis and going right through to the Apocalpse. He's snuggle in with her and say,"Read, Nanny. 'And the Lord said'!"

She travelled overseas once. Visited Ireland and the Isle of Iona, as well as the Scottish relatives. As for me, I had one weekend in county Cork. Walking on that green, green grass I half expected a leprechaun or two to peep around a low stone wall at me.