I only knew one grandmother, all the others died in their early 50s. My maternal grandmother gave up her home aged 65 and lived with her daughters until her death ten years later. She was treated as a frail old woman and looked it. At that age I was still working and looking after young grandchildren for many hours every week.
My grandmother seemed like a Victorian relict, in long dark clothes over pink corsets and always a hat outside the house. She was superstitious and had had little education, having left school when her mother died to look after her father and siblings. We laughed when she couldn’t understand the telephone, tape recorder or television. She must have felt like an alien, poor old dear.
Changes in taxation that Andy Burnham seems to be interested in
